I Dare You
by sup phyl
Summary: Why is it men can never say no to a dare? Alfred and Jimmy embark on a childish game of dares which turns life downstairs upside down, for one person in particular, but maybe it will just help the footmen find the courage to face the more serious trials of life. Set post S3. Warning for spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**I wrote this as a break from all the depressingness of my other fanfic. It is very light, on the boundary of mad, and utterly ridiculous, but I wanted to go for something different and fun. Way more informal and relaxed than my usual writing. However, since I am unable to write something that has no point behind it there will be a tint of seriousness. But only a tint. Be kind please in reviews as I don't normally write humour (and am very nervous about it being read) and I also found this incredibly hard to do. Also if anyone spots any inaccuracies chronologically I do know I may be a little off (but only in very minor details) Try and enjoy.**

**Warning: Not suitable for serious people**

**Warning: S3 spoilers**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

**All credit for the characters and of course Downton Abbey goes to the illustrious Julian Fellowes.**

* * *

Alfred and Jimmy were sitting in the servant's hall polishing silver that they had only gone over a few days before, recognising how tiresome it had all become they had decided to embark on a more relaxing venture, and even throw some fun into the mix, by suggesting some games they could play whilst working. It was when Alfred suggested the game of 'dares' that they both agreed that this would be perfect for two young lads looking to cause some chaos.

"All right, if we're going to do this we need rules." Alfred said.

"What's the point in that?" Jimmy thought that the whole idea was to get away from the restraints on their lives.

"So we don't get sacked."

"True." Jimmy agreed. "First off, it has to stay downstairs-"

"Can't interfere with our work or the running of the household-"

"The dares have to be witnessed by one of us-"

"No one can know or even suspect that we're playing-"

"I can't do anything explicitly regarding Mr Barrow-" Jimmy insisted. It may have been a year since the whole 'kiss in the night' incident but it was still very awkward between them as things had been kept strictly professional ever since, unless there were other people around, and Jimmy didn't think Alfred was above daring Jimmy to go and kiss the under butler, or something equally inappropriate.

"Fine, then I can't do anything explicitly regarding Ivy-"

"Fine." Jimmy said reluctantly, though he and Alfred were good friends now it still found it tedious to hear the second footman talk endlessly about the kitchen maid when she had shown little interest in him. However since his flirting skills were so bad, and even acted as a repellent, it was hard to tell whether this was why the maid still distanced herself from him, or just because he wasn't her type. Jimmy didn't have the heart to tell Alfred the truth, for it was bad enough that Alfred knew the girl still had a slight crush on him, but Jimmy was glad it had not affected their friendship. "Any more rules?"

"The dares have to be with us."

"What do you mean?"

"Like we can't put stuff in the food or move things around. It has to come from us, things _we_ say or do." Alfred said.

"All right." _Damn,_ _that means I can't get him to steal one of Lady Edith's corsets and wear it_. "So many rules, is it worth it?"

"I think that's what'll make it more fun, because it'll be harder." Alfred grinned. "When do we stop?"

"When the first man surrenders his manhood by chickening out, or when someone finds out what we're doing."

"What does the winner get?"

"Bragging rights to eternal manhood!" Jimmy announced dramatically. _Not that I need it, with hair like mine who needs manhood? _

"Awesome." _That will win over Ivy for sure_. "When shall we start?"

"I think maybe a practice one to begin with. Just something small. A confidence booster like."

"Good thinking."

Jimmy strummed his fingers on his chin in thought. "During dinner when someone asks us a question, you have to start your answer with: 'That would be sexy…' or 'Me pants are too tight…'"

_Oh god_. "Then you have to say: 'I have man problems…' or 'I'm too pretty…'"

_Oh god, man problems?_ "What kind of man problems?" Jimmy dared to ask.

"Whatever you can think of."

* * *

The servants were gathering for dinner, the time where most of these dares would take place as it would cause the least amount of disruption, and it was here that their practice round would take place. The footmen exchanged a hand shake before entering and sat beside one another in their usual places, opposite Mr Barrow and Anna. Both lads experiencing the same thing; terror.

"Now, the family are going to be away at Duneagle in a few days, but I don't want you to think that you can take advantage of the fact that there will only be Mr Branson to cater for. It'll be all hands on deck; there is a lot to be done while they're away." Mr Carson announced to the staff; who rolled their eyes at the thought of just cleaning non- stop for ten days.

"Surely they can have some time off, Mr Carson? They deserve a treat." Mrs Hughes said quietly, not wanting others to think she was challenging Mr Carson.

"If they get the work done, I will think about it." Mr Carson compromised with the housekeeper to her satisfaction.

Mrs Patmore came in from the kitchen with Daisy and Ivy to serve up dinner, Alfred shrivelled up when the cook started speaking to him, hoping she would not ask him a question. "Alfred, Mr Barrow's going to Thirsk tomorrow to pick up some ginger for me, maybe you'd like to go with him?"

_Say it, just say it, for eternal manhood._ "That would be sexy."

"Sexy?" Mrs Patmore shrieked.

"That _would_ be sexy! I find spices very sexy Mrs Patmore." Seeing Jimmy smirk, Alfred decided that the first footman should share his humiliation. "How about you Jimmy, would you fancy it?"

_Jerk. You're manlier than Alfred, Jimmy, you can do this. _"I have man problems, but I'll try."

"Man problems? Sounds serious," Mr Barrow said, "What kind of man problems?"

_Bet you'd like to know, since you're obsessed with me._ "I have man problems with… me hair."

"Never heard that one before." The under butler wondered. "I'm sure you can walk to Thirsk with your 'man/hair problem' can't you?"

_Is he that desperate to be near me that he would risk me hair?!_ "I'm too pretty for that."

"For walking?"

"I have man problems!" Jimmy cried.

"Right." Mr Barrow looked at Jimmy suspiciously. "You're up to it though aren't you Alfred, you haven't got man problems?"

"Me pants are too tight." Alfred replied.

"What?"

"Me pants are too tight, Mr Barrow."

"Maybe you should get new ones then?"

"That would be sexy."

"Sexy?"

"Me pants are too tight!" Alfred said painfully.

"I think they must be." Mr Barrow eyed up the second footman warily.

"Mr Carson, can they go into Thirsk tomorrow?" Mrs Hughes asked the butler, who wasn't quite sure what to make of what he had just seen.

"If they behave themselves, though I suppose if Alfred needs new underwear then he'll have to if it's causing him such distress. Do you want to go James?"

"I have man problems, but I'll manage." Jimmy said.

"I hope these man problems don't stop you from working." Mr Carson raised an eyebrow.

"I'm too pretty to work."

"No one is too pretty to work." Mr Carson bellowed in offence.

"I have man problems though." Jimmy squeaked.

"Maybe when we're in Thirsk we can pick something up for James' problem; a comb… or a gag." Mr Barrow suggested whimsically.

"Sounds like a right girl's day out." Anna commented.

"Shall we do that James?" The under butler raised his voice, as the first footman didn't want to look at him in his embarrassment.

"I'm too pretty to wear a gag." Jimmy mumbled, scratching at the pile of mashed potato on his plate with his fork.

"And we'll get some pants for Alfred; if you don't mind us being there?" Mr Barrow continued.

"That would be sexy."

"Why is everything sexy?" Mrs Hughes deigned to ask.

"Me pants are too tight!" Alfred widened his eyes at Mrs Hughes, as if he were actually in some form of distress.

"I don't think I want to go any further."

"I don't blame you Mrs Hughes." Even Mr Barrow was scared of what he was seeing.

Mr Carson interrupted the commotion, "Very well, you three may go to Thirsk, only because I don't think Mr Branson will need an under butler, not to mention two floundering footmen who are suffering from man problems and tight pants!" He aimed a glare at the two footmen who were causing such trouble.

"Thank you Mr Carson. What do you say lads?" Mr Barrow smiled. Giving the footmen some cause to think the under butler knew exactly what was going on, with all his questions.

"That would be sexy, thank you." Alfred said.

"I'm too pretty to serve Mr Branson."_ I am really._ "Thank you."

"Alfred, do you want to leave the room?" Mr Barrow offered, but more as a punishment than the blessing it was to the second footman.

"That would be sexy." Alfred stood, as the under butler made Jimmy a similar offer.

"That's what I'm afraid of. What about you James? Do you need to leave the room?"

"I'm too pretty to be around all of you." He said vainly, laying down his cutlery and making a show of himself as he smoothed down his clothes.

"Oh Alfred, change your pants would you?" Mr Barrow ordered.

"Me pants _are _too tight."

"Would you like James to help you?"

_Bet you'd like that wouldn't you? The pervert! _"That would be-"

"Yes all right off you go." Mr Barrow cut Alfred off, as the footmen vacated the room.

As soon as they were out of earshot the errant footmen burst into uncontrolled laughter.

"That were terrifying." Jimmy eventually said, when he could breathe.

"Aye, lucky we got out of there."

Jimmy nodded. "Do you think Mr Barrow knows?"

"Nah, he's not that smart."

"I reckon he is." _People say he is, and the things he says sometimes-_

"A man who would rather kiss a bloke than a girl can't be that smart." Alfred pointed out.

"I think Mr Barrow might surprise you." Jimmy mused.

"If you say so."

"Anyway you best change out of your pants." Jimmy laughed.

"Me pants _are_ too tight."

"Sexy!"

* * *

**Thank you for giving this a go. I know this is very silly, but I hope enjoyable. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for giving this madness a go.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

**Warning for S3 spoilers**

* * *

"I can't do that!" Jimmy exclaimed in hushed tones.

"Why not? You scared?" Alfred mocked as he presented Jimmy with his dare on the second day of their game.

He puffed his chest out fearlessly. "Of course not." Slumping down again he considered, "But I'll get thrown out, and probably beaten."

"I dared you. Or can I start bragging to Ivy about me eternal manhood?"

_NEVER!_ "All right, all right. But if I do this, then you have to chat up... Mr Barrow."

"What? No way."

"Why? You scared?" Jimmy mimicked Alfred's previous mockery of him.

"No. It's just wrong. Especially since he saw me buy underwear this morning. He might imagine me in it."

"I don't think you're his type Alfred." Jimmy screwed up his face as he tried to think of why the under butler would think romantically of Alfred.

"Does he only go for blondes?" Alfred said snidely.

"No, just attractive ones." Jimmy jeered. _It's true, in fact how did Mr Barrow resist me for so long? It took a whole couple of weeks! Maybe I should be offended by this._

"Oi!"

"I'm joking." _No I'm not._ "Or would you rather chat up Mr Carson or Mr Molesley?"

"Oh god, no."

"There you are then. Come on, it's just a bit of fun… I dare you."

* * *

Jimmy entered the kitchen, his hands were sweating, he had flirted before, he had pretended to flirt before, but this was taking it to a whole new level, there were witnesses around him, but he had to do it, if only so he could watch Alfred work on Mr Barrow later. Pocketing his shame he strode into the room to be greeted by the kitchen maid, whose eyes immediately went to the handsome young footman.

"All right Jimmy?"

_Blimey, talk about being forward._ "Yes thank you Ivy. Oh my, what is that divine smell?" Jimmy turned his nose up and sauntered about the kitchen to find the source.

"Probably the cakes." Ivy said, referring to the tray sitting before her with still hot sponges on them, and Jimmy realised that was actually what he could smell.

"It could be. But I think it's coming from you Mrs Patmore." Jimmy stopped, his nose hovering just over Mrs Patmore's head, his nose wrinkling as he feigned to smell her. His hands motioned to grip the cook's shoulders but diligence made him rethink this.

"Me?" The cook turned in surprise, and Jimmy stepped back in shock as he found the tired, red face of the cook in his.

"Yes, are you wearing scent Mrs Patmore?" _If she is it's scent of garlic._

"Am I heck as like!"

"Well then it must be your natural odour, it's very… appetising." _I do like garlic bread I suppose… but then again I'm not going to eat Mrs Patmore._

"Uh… thank you James." Mrs Patmore exchanged a look with her kitchen underlings.

"Please, call me Jimmy. May I have the pleasure of calling you by your given name?"

"No you may not. Now get out of my kitchen before I take this pan to your head!"

"Don't be like that Mrs Patmore." He implored her putting on his puppy dog eyes. _They never fail to charm a red blooded woman._

"I'll be what I flamin' well choose to, now get out, and don't let me catch you in here again!" Mrs Patmore chased him around the counter in a circle, her waddling struggling to keep up with the sprite youth._ Blimey what colour were her blood?!_

He shouted in between breaths as he ran, trying to dodge the oncoming Mrs Patmore, "But I love you Mrs Patmore!" _WHAT?_

The cook picked up a cloth from the surface and launched it at the fleeing footman who came into the corridor where Alfred was waiting, his head thrown back against the wall.

"You love Mrs Patmore?"

"I couldn't help it, it just came out."

"You have balls of steel."

"This is true. Now it's your turn." Jimmy pushed Alfred to the entrance of the servant's hall, wanting to move past his humiliation as soon as he could, fortunately he saw Mr Barrow was sat smoking, alone, reading a newspaper, just waiting for Alfred's advances.

"I don't think I can do this." Alfred faltered at the entrance.

"Why not?"

"Because I've never flirted with a man before. It's weird."

"I doubt it's much different to flirting with a woman."_ HA! I think is the first time where I actually feel sorry for Mr Barrow. Except that time when I nearly made him homeless, but I were horrible back then, not like now, now I'm perfect. In that case why hasn't Mr Barrow tried to kiss me again? Maybe I should be offended! Any man likes a bit of attention, and it's not like I don't deserve it, I mean look at me, and that comb I got from Thirsk that Mr Barrow suggested does work wonders, it shapes my waves just right, but he hasn't noticed. Jerk…Oh, Alfred's looking at me, I haven't spoken in ages, quick Jimmy, back to reality-_ "Look Mr Barrow's right there and he's alone, it's the perfect opportunity. If I can tell Mrs Patmore I love her, you can tell Mr Barrow that he's yummy."_ It shouldn't be that hard, it's not like he's bad looking or anything._ "Just pretend he's Ivy."

"Right." They gave each other the traditional handshake as Alfred waltzed in and pulled up a chair next to Mr Barrow, and leaned forward with one elbow on the table, resting his head dreamily in his palm, to better catch the under butler's gaze.

"Hello Mr Barrow."

"Alfred." The under butler greeted him coldly.

_He's so rude, what can I say?_ "You always look so clean Mr Barrow. Can I call you Thomas?"

"Excuse me?" Alfred had caught the under butler's attention with his disregard for authority, but now the ebony haired man was looking straight at him with those piercing eyes, Alfred panicked.

"Yummy!"

"What?"

_Why did Jimmy have to give me the word 'yummy'_? "Can I touch your hair?"

"No." The under butler shook his newspaper and continued to read, ignoring the footman. Until he heard a yawn near to his ear as Alfred stretched, putting one arm upon Mr Barrow's chair. "What are you doing?"

"Just resting me arm." Alfred said as casually as possible, fluttering his eyelashes... casually.

"Can't you rest it somewhere else?"

Alfred withdrew his arm, and paused to think of what he could say next. _What would I say to Ivy_? "You have… the most beautiful eyes."

"Thanks?" Alfred edged closer until he could smell the smoke pouring from Mr Barrow's lips. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just trying to look in your eyes Mr Barrow. They're very pretty. Like you." _Remember to say this to Ivy later, but obviously don't call her Mr Barrow._

"Have you been sniffing the cleaning chemicals?"

"No."

"Then what are you doing?" Thomas asked in exasperation as Alfred removed himself from the underbutler's proximity.

"I just think you look very nice today is all. You're very… manly and…yummy. It's nice... Yummy." _STOP SAYING YUMMY!_

"I see." Mr Barrow folded his paper. Alfred started to feel worried as the under butler turned his whole body to face him, and his entire demeanour transformed into one of seriousness, not cold as it usually was, but with feeling. "I'm glad you said that as I want to tell you something Alfred, something I maybe should have said a long time ago."

_What on earth-_ "Aye?"

"I've always found you very attractive."

"Eh?"

"The ginger hair, the freckles, your long, sour face, how tall and lanky you are. Just everything about you draws me in."

"You what?" Alfred moved as far back in his chair as he could as the under butler, unblinking, moved closer to him.

"Don't be afraid, Alfred, I was only waiting for you to return my affection and now you have- kiss me!" Mr Barrow stretched his arms out to welcome Alfred into an embrace, but the youngster fled from the room in terror.

"Get off!"

He heard the under butler laughing loudly, a sound rarely heard, as he cried theatrically in jest, "Come back Alfred!"

The atmosphere was little different outside as Jimmy was leaning against the wall just out of view of Mr Barrow, wiping tears from his eyes. "Oh boy, it was worth getting thrown out of the kitchen to see that."

"No it flamin' weren't." Alfred walked past, trying to get as far away from the under butler as possible, Jimmy following him.

"Oh it really was. To be fair Mr Barrow is very cool." _You'd have to be, to pretend to want to kiss Alfred. I reckon he'd be great at this game, shame he's an under butler… and a pervert, obviously, who doesn't notice me hair-_

"Oh 'cool' is he now? Maybe you should go and chat him up?"

"Don't be daft. He might, you know, get the wrong idea."

"Oh god, you don't think he's gonna come for me in the night do you?" Alfred grabbed Jimmy's arms, his eyes begging for reassurance that he was safe from the subjections of Mr Barrow.

"I don't think there's much chance of that."

"But what about me ginger hair and-"

"Trust me Alfred, you're safe." Jimmy thought to stop him before he made himself sound even more ridiculous than he did already.

"All right," He sighed with relief. "Now if I remember rightly, it's your turn."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for reading this game of humiliation and for the kind reviews. Please enjoy. **

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

"She'll hate me." Alfred shook his head in fear.

"Do it." Jimmy urged him.

"It's wrong." The taller footman was frozen, staring at the target of his dare in the servant's hall.

"Do it!" Jimmy gave him a firm push on the back as the taller man adjusted his tie for what he was about to do.

Alfred stumbled into the servant's hall where Anna was sat at the table, sewing, and took a seat opposite her, rubbing his thighs nervously. "Mornin' Anna. My god, have you put on weight?"

"Excuse me?" The ladies' maid dropped her sewing and looked in shock at the insulting footman.

"You've just… ballooned right up." _I can't believe I'm saying this._

"I beg your pardon?" Anna blinked.

"You're fat Anna." Alfred said bluntly with a sigh, closing his eyes ready to receive a slap.

"I'm pregnant Alfred."

"Eh? Oh god. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You should only apologise for saying it when you didn't know I were pregnant."

"Yes, well." Alfred hung his head shamefully. Wondering if Jimmy knew the ladies' maid was pregnant.

"It were very rude. I have a right mind to tell Mr Carson." Anna threatened.

_NO!_ "Oh no, please don't- I, I have the blues Anna."

"What?"

"I'm low. I'm acting out because I feel ugly all the time. It's hard being around Jimmy when he's so good looking." Alfred's face contorted in a frown and he closed his eyes tightly as he pretended to cry. "I mean, no one comes and kisses me when _I'm_ sleeping!" He buried his head in his hands.

Anna went around the table and sat beside Alfred, putting a hand on his shoulder despite his behaviour to her. "Alfred-"

"It's because I'm ginger. I hate being ginger! No one else is ginger, it's just me, I hate being different!" Alfred cried, burying his head in his hands to disguise that he wasn't actually crying.

"It's okay Alfred, there's nothing wrong with you. Just don't take it out on other people."

It was here that Mr Barrow came upon the scene of Anna comforting the 'crying' footman, "What's going on?"

"Alfred's a bit under the weather."

Mr Barrow came over to the other side of Alfred and asked, "Why?"

"He's worried that he's different and people will make fun of him."

Mr Barrow thought of Alfred's behaviour towards himself the day before and he pulled out a chair and sat beside Alfred urgently. "Oh, cor blimey I thought he were joking."

"What?" Anna asked, unawares.

"It's all right. I can take it from here Anna." With that Anna left, leaving the footman in the hands of Mr Barrow, who did not speak until the ladies' maid was gone from sight. "Now Alfred I know it's scary when you realise that you're different, but don't fight it, embrace it."

_Oh god, he's trying to trick me, he wants me in me tight pants_. "I try Mr Barrow, but I can't."

"I'm sorry if it's what I said about me finding you attractive, and I hope I haven't given you the wrong idea, because I don't feel that way about you."

_Hang on-_ "What?" The footman's expression transformed magically to being sorrow free.

"But if there's a man who you want to take that step with then I will help you-"

"What are you on about?"

"About you, being different-" Thomas said quietly.

"About being ginger."

"Oh." There was an awkward silence in which Mr Barrow slid his chair out with a creak and sidled away inconspicuously, passing Jimmy who came in and sat next to the traumatised Alfred.

"You all right there?" He asked gaily.

"I think I'm going to be sick." The footman said as he stared at the wall.

"What? Because Mr Barrow thinks you're different? At least you know now that he's not going to kiss you in your sleep. No matter how jealous you are. Hahaha!" Jimmy nudged Alfred's side, who shirked him.

"What were it like?" Alfred asked vaguely.

"What?"

"Being kissed by a bloke."

_I can't really say since you walked in before I woke up you meddling twit._ "If you're that curious you should have let Mr Barrow lay one on you earlier."

"Come on, really. How was it?"

"Obviously it were disgusting." _But-_

"But-"

_Did I say that out loud?_ "Who says there's a but?"

"Isn't there?"

"No… of course not."

"Is it that different to kissing a girl?"

_Right! Because you could compare-_ "How would you know?"

"I've kissed a girl before."

"Really? Not Ivy though."

_Don't cry._"No."

"You've got to get over her." Jimmy rolled his eyes.

"I can't."

"Then sweep her off her feet. Though judging by your attempt with Mr Barrow I imagine that will be hard. How did you get that other girl to kiss you?" _Drugs? Alcohol? Torture?_

"I don't know. She just said she liked me."

"Well, you must have done something right." _God knows what that is._

* * *

The air was thick between Anna, Thomas and Alfred, but by dinner time the atmosphere had grown more relaxed, especially as Mrs Patmore sauntered through with an unexpected declaration which made Jimmy squirm.

"All right James, I am coming in the room, so block your nose!"

"Thank you Mrs Patmore!" Jimmy replied in his humiliation.

"Don't want you getting carried away again!"

"No Mrs Patmore."

"What's going on?" Mrs Hughes asked.

Jimmy was about to answer but Mrs Patmore whiney voice stopped him. "According to James me scent is so overwhelming that it makes him fall in love with me."

"Really James?" Mrs Hughes looked at the young footman with raised eyebrows.

Keeping his eyes on the table Jimmy rationalised, "I like food, I like the smell of food, Mrs Patmore prepares food; therefore she smells of food, therefore I like the smell of Mrs Patmore."

"That is a wonderful use of deduction." Mr Barrow said.

"Thank you Mr Barrow."

"I prepare food, don't you like my smell?" Ivy asked, coming around the table with a bowl of stew.

"Now Ivy let's not encourage him." Mr Carson said.

"What's wrong with you?" Mrs Patmore stood over Jimmy, hands on her hips as the footman stared forlornly into his stew.

"I can't eat it Mrs Patmore. I'm sorry."

"Why not? What's the matter with it?" Mrs Patmore screeched in offence.

"Nothing, I just can't eat it."

"Why?" Ivy asked this time.

Jimmy felt Alfred staring into him, and he uttered that which he was dared to, "I'm constipated."

All eyes were raised at this, Mr Carson commenting, "I hardly think this is appropriate conversation for the dinner table."

Jimmy grew hysterical, "I'm sorry Mr Carson but it's getting to the point where it hurts, and I just can't eat anything. It's very upsetting. Because I love Mrs Patmore, and I love her food... I love stew!" Jimmy wailed.

Mr Carson was moved by the footman's plight. "Well, in that case we may have some laxatives hanging around somewhere-"

"No! Mr Carson I'll be all right." Jimmy shook his head violently.

Mrs Hughes advised, "If it's hurting you then-"

"No it's not that bad, it may just be gas. Yes I definitely think it's gas. In fact I can feel it passing now."

"Charming." Anna turned her nose up.

"You should leave the room when you do that." Miss O'Brien added, making Jimmy blush in embarrassment.

"Yes." Mr Carson began, feeling embarrassed himself. "All the same I think I'll get them for you."

"No, Mr Carson don't go to the trouble." _Please god._

"Don't be embarrassed now James. I'll fetch them for you." The butler stood and made to leave the room.

"Really Mr Carson there's no need. It's gas, I'm telling you it's gas!" Jimmy leaned on the table and cried.

"Excuse me?" The butler's head peered back in from the corridor.

"Oh never mind," Jimmy surrendered, one hand on his head, the other palm open to receive the tablets, "just hand them over."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for all the positive reviews, I'm glad my attempt at humour is appreciated. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

"My god you look rough." Alfred knocked on Jimmy's door the next morning and the first footman was bleary eyed and still in his nightwear.

"I was up all night on the flamin' loo."

"Oh god. You mean you actually took them pills?"

"What else could I do?"

"Thought you might just pretend to."

_Why didn't I think of that?_ "Oh. It's not natural." He frowned, recalling the effects the laxatives had on him that night.

"Of course it's not."

"I still feel I need to go." He rubbed his lower stomach uneasily.

"Well hold it. Now let's get this over with."

"Can't you do yours today, and I'll do it tomorrow?"

"No. Come on, I want your combs, your pomade, any shiny surfaces in the box, now." Alfred held a cardboard box up for Jimmy to fill the specified goods.

_I hate Alfred._ "Please, don't do this, don't take them."

"If I have to put that stuff in me hair then you're losing your beauty essentials. It won't hurt you to look like the rest of us for a day."

"But I need it. What if Mr Carson tells me to do me hair?" Jimmy took the requested items lovingly in his arms and cradled them, taking them to the box.

"Then you'll have to get someone else to do it, won't you? The way you go on about it, it should be an honour for the lucky one. Is that all of them?"

"Yes." _Except the secret mirror and comb I have stashed in my bedside drawer._

"Oh yes, I almost forgot about the one in your bedside drawer." Alfred remembered, going over to the table and taking the small hand mirror, and fine tooth comb which Jimmy was planning to stuff into his sock.

"Are you in me head?"

"I hope not."

"Wait." He took the brush Mr Barrow picked for him in Thirsk from the box and turning from Alfred whispered to it. "I'll see you later. I love you."

_Oh my god he's talking to his brush._

Jimmy replaced the brush in the box carefully noting the judgemental expression on the taller man's face._ Oh my god Alfred just saw me talking to me brush. _He cleared his throat and deepened his voice,"Well, I'm going to urinate against the wall, then spit." Before Alfred, shaking his head, went from the room to leave Jimmy to get dressed, but without being able to straighten his dishevelled hair.

* * *

As soon as Jimmy was dressed, he was panicking, Alfred had taken anything he could use as a mirror and he had no idea what he looked like. Flattening his hands to his hair, to conceal its assumed hideousness, he stalked down the corridors hoping not to see anyone until he found Anna, as he knew she would be able to help him in his dilemma. He broke into a run as he saw the blonde ladies' maid going upstairs.

"Anna, Anna, you've got to help me, I need me hair doing."

"What's wrong with it?" Anna tried to look through the footman's fingers.

"It were that walk to Thirsk day before yesterday, it's just… inflamed me man hair problems." _That was quick._

"Oh, that's back is it?" Anna couldn't hold back a snigger.

"Yes. Please Anna help me." Jimmy howled.

"I might if you let go of me legs."

Jimmy looked down at himself_. How did I end up down here?_ "Sorry." He got up from his grovelling position.

"It's all right, look I need to get to Lady Mary, can you wait?"

"No! I- never mind." Jimmy ran off, he had to do something before everyone came downstairs for dinner and they saw him, it was painful.

He went to the kitchen, it was empty, for now. He span in a circle, hands against his head, then that's where he saw it, the answer to his problems, and he took the implement in his hand. _Quick, do it, before someone comes in. Owwww._

"What on earth are you doing?" A voice hovered across the room. Jimmy turned and saw none other than Mr Barrow staring at him, Jimmy daren't move an inch. "Is that a fork in your hair?"

"I uh-" _What reason could I possibly give for having a fork in me hair?_ _Alfred thought me hair were a bowl of spaghetti? I slept on it? Oh stuff it, _"I were brushing me hair Mr Barrow."

"I suppose it is a bit of a mess this morning."

A little cry slipped out from Jimmy's lips at this harsh truth._ I hate you, you and your perfect hair. _

"But no- that doesn't quite explain the fork. Why don't you use your brush?"

"It's broken." Jimmy said, trying to pull the fork from his hair, but it wouldn't budge.

"How? From overuse I expect?" Mr Barrow joked.

"Yes." Jimmy agreed. _Why not?_

"Oh. You must brush your hair all night to break it in two days!"

"Me mum used to say to me 'brush your hair one hundred times every night', and I had a third of the hair I have now." Jimmy gave a cheesy grin, still trying to pull the fork from his locks.

"I see. You could have asked for a brush."

"I didn't think of that. Could you just uh, help me?" Jimmy swayed to emphasize his need for assistance.

"What?"

Jimmy dropped his hands and let the fork swing across his eyes to make it clear he was having difficulty. "I have a fork in me hair Mr Barrow."

"Oh right. Are you sure you want me to?"

_I thought you'd jump at the chance to get your hands on me hair_. "Yes, just quick please before someone comes in."

"All right hold still, I'll try and be gentle." Mr Barrow approached Jimmy and careful not to look into the footman's eyes or do anything other than focus on the fork which he took in his skilled fingers, he attempted to retrieve the piece of cutlery from the youth's hair.

_Ow, ow, oh, ah, that's nice, oh yes Mr Barrow, run your fingers through me hair, it's been so long since someone's done it, and it's about time. Put down the fork and massage my head now, I need your fingers on me temples Mr Barrow, I'll go get that brush and you can put it through me hair and feed me grapes. I feel I should be wearing a toga. _

A clink as the fork was placed upon the counter made Jimmy realise his eyes were closed. Opening them he saw the under butler flicking back Jimmy's stray hairs he had pulled out of place, not that they were in place anyway. "There. Now sort yourself out before Mr Carson comes in."

"Can't you help me?" Jimmy asked.

"With what?"

"Me hair?"

"No." Mr Barrow started to leave.

"Please, I'm desperate Thomas, I have man problems, and I've run out of pomade, me mirror's cracked and me brush is broken!" Jimmy implored him.

"Blimey you've been through the wars haven't you?"

"Please." Jimmy said in perhaps the most sincere tone he had in the last three days.

"Fine. I will do your hair for you, though I might put it into braids." Mr Barrow smiled and indicated for Jimmy to go into the dressing room so he could work his magic.

"I don't care; just don't tell anyone about this, please Thomas." _Who's Thomas?_

"My lips are sealed Mr Kent."

* * *

Jimmy's hair had been partially fixed; he had to talk Mr Barrow out of using a comb on it, insisting that he preferred the rebellious look his entanglement gave him, and he had to close his eyes so as not to see what Mr Barrow was doing to him, but it was all right. Somehow the under butler seemed to understand that he should just not bother asking. Jimmy found he actually trusted Mr Barrow with his hair, his pride and joy! Even when Mr Barrow asked what Jimmy wanted done he would reply with 'Do whatever you like'. _Really?_ Maybe he had a severe reaction from the laxatives; it had gone to his head.

His hair now done, the under butler and footman went over to the servant's hall for breakfast, but Alfred was nowhere to be seen, Jimmy was on edge, as despite his trials that morning it would all be better when he saw the second footman. It began when Daisy went over to whom she thought was Mr Barrow.

"Excuse me Mr Barrow I- Oh my god!"

She tapped the man on the arm and as he turned the girl practically fainted when she saw that it was none other than Alfred, who had done none other than style his hair just like Mr Barrow, in every way, including dying it black!

"Alfred?! What have you done to your hair?" Daisy tried to catch her breath, Anna and Mr Barrow himself entered upon hearing the scream.

"I think he's trying to turn into Mr Barrow." Anna giggled.

"Not at all, I just fancied a change." Alfred said unconcernedly, but turned a bright shade of red when he saw the look Mr Barrow gave him. Like a man who had just seen his death. Jimmy came in next, seeing now that Alfred had come down and was dying to rub it in.

"ARGH! Oh my god, Alfred, you've got one of Mr Barrow's wigs attached to your head!" Jimmy pointed at Alfred's hair in feigned shock.

"Wig!?" Mr Barrow exclaimed, "Excuse me, my hair is completely natural. Not like your bowel movements."

"Can we just get back to Alfred's hair?" Jimmy turned the conversation away from his still dodgy stomach. _Though I probably deserve it after accusing his hair of being a wig after he helped me with my man problems. That's right, hair problems were now man problems. The world will change today because of this._

"Yeah, whatever possessed you?" Daisy asked, her body moving so her eyes could capture the footman's head at every angle.

"I admire Mr Barrow's appearance, I think he looks very clean cut, and everyone's always saying how handsome he is and how smart, I just want to be thought of like that too." _Eternal manhood better be worth this._

"He looks like Frankenstein's monster." Mr Barrow said to Jimmy, not taking his eyes from the young man who was mirroring him.

"It must be flattering for Mr Barrow to have you wish to be like him, not many feel that way." Anna said supportively.

"My hair doesn't really look like that does it?" Mr Barrow asked Jimmy for reassurance, contemplating at that moment whether to try a new look.

"Alfred, I know you were upset yesterday, but you didn't need to dye your hair." Anna began to worry that Alfred's episode the day before had led him to go to such lengths to try and change himself.

"It's only for today, see how it goes." Alfred shrugged.

"Well make sure it does go. It's ruddy scary thinking I look like that." Mr Barrow ordered.

"Don't be unkind." Anna stepped in, "Alfred, can I have a word?" Silently the footman followed the ladies' maid into an empty corridor where he was asked outright, "Do you fancy Mr Barrow?"

"What? No, of course not."

"It's just you said you were jealous of him having feelings for Jimmy, and now the hair, I'm just wondering if maybe there's something more."

_More? I hate him! He's a man kisser! A sleep stalker! _"No, no there isn't. Honest."

"All right. So long as you're sure." Anna smiled and touched Alfred on the arm as she went.

Alfred, feeling bad about things turned out yesterday but unable to tell her the truth said, "Oh by the way, congratulations about the baby."


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for for reading this. I'm glad it seems to make people laugh. Hope I continue to produce the same effect. It's very difficult. Reviews are always appreciated to reassure me that I'm hitting the right buttons, so to speak. So thank you to those who have be kind enough to comment so far.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

It seemed that Alfred's chosen method of dying his hair was not as temporary as he thought, and though he styled it as he used to there were still streaks of black amongst the ginger. He looked like a tiger. All you need is some tall grass and he'd disappear. Luckily he was so tall no one could see it properly, but Jimmy bit on his lip to keep from bursting into laughter as he came down and saw the footman's 'man problem'.

"My god your hair looks ridiculous."

"Shut up." Alfred hissed, "You know people think I fancy Mr Barrow now."

Jimmy guffawed, "That is hilarious."

"No it isn't. They keep giving me funny looks."

"I don't think it's because of Mr Barrow." Jimmy's eyes accused Alfred's hair with his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

"I don't see _you _getting humiliated." Alfred chided.

"You don't think having Mr Barrow untangle a fork from your hair and yelling that you have gas in the servants' hall is embarrassing?" Not just that, when he retired for bed the night before and Alfred returned Jimmy's things, he looked in the mirror and saw how disgustingly greasy and disorderly his hair was and cried himself to sleep, Mrs Hughes had to be fetched to talk Jimmy into showing his face the next morning. Even then the footman brushed his hair exactly three hundred times before dressing.

"I suppose, but I had to stand there and say I respect Mr Barrow, after what he did."

"He threatened to braid me hair, it could be worse. Besides, it's been a year. I think we can start to move on."

"But still, has he not spoken to you yet?"

Jimmy was surprised by Alfred's question. Did Alfred expect Mr Barrow to have spoken to him? "No, he's doing the sensible thing and keeping his distance about it."

"I couldn't stand that."

"Eh?"

"Me, I'd have to have some apology or something, some closure."

"Right, like you and Ivy have?" Jimmy folded his arms, refusing to have this conversation again.

"Don't know what you mean." Alfred examined his fingernails in innocence.

"It's been so long and you won't even sit down and tell her how you feel."

"Like you do with-"

"Never mind, here I go." Jimmy pushed past Alfred into the kitchen where Mrs Patmore, Daisy and Ivy were preparing breakfast.

"Good luck." Alfred said. "And remember, don't use less than three words in your questions."

"Would I ever?"

* * *

"Morning James." Mrs Patmore said warily, hoping the footman wasn't going to subject her to more flirtation and disrupt her kitchen.

"Is it morning?" Jimmy asked as if in a dream.

"Yes it is James."

"Well isn't that lovely?" He smiled.

"I suppose so. Same as every day I guess."

"Will you excuse me?" Jimmy bowed, hearing the servants collecting in the servant's hall.

"Certainly."

"Do you think he has gas again?" Ivy giggled.

Jimmy sat down at the table opposite Anna, seeing him she asked, "How are your problems today James?"

_Think of a question-_ "Wouldn't you like to know, Anna?"

"Yes, that's why I was asking."

"Isn't that a bit personal?" Jimmy gave her a derogatory look.

"Didn't seem to be the other night when you were shouting out your problems." Mr Bates chimed in.

"What else could I have done?"

"You could have dismissed yourself, or spoken to Mr Carson quietly." Mr Bates suggested.

"What would be the point in that?"

"What do you mean?"

_My god Mr Bates don't you know when someone is suffering from man problems? Though from the state of your hair-_ "Isn't it the point of being ill to announce it to the world?"

"But you just said it was personal." Anna said.

"Weren't you talking about me other problems?" _Other problems?_

"What other problems?"

_Now I've done it- _"Er- Don't you know?"

"Oh, do you mean those man problems you were on your knees about yesterday?"

_Damn you Anna. Can't let the other servant's know. How can I respond to that? Uh, er-_ "Did everyone know Mr Barrow wears a wig?"

"Excuse me?" The offended man dropped his cutlery and gave the footman a wide eyed look of betrayal.

"Does it not drive everyone mad?"

"I do not wear a wig." Mr Barrow announced to the room.

"Can you pull on your hair so we can see?"

"No, because I do not wear a wig. This is me natural hair. I think James' hair looks more like a wig than mine."

"How dare you?" Jimmy bellowed.

"Quite easily."

"Do you want to pull me hair?"

"Well, if you're offering."

"Why wouldn't I offer?" _Because he's touched me hair enough in the past twenty four hours, but damn it feels so good._

"Go on then." Thomas went around the silent table, all the servants waited in anticipation, Jimmy could swear his heart was doing a drum roll as he allowed Thomas to pull on his hair, he winced, beads of sweat trailed down his forehead anxiously, as the older man wrapped his fingers about his golden hair and pulled so gently. "How about that everyone? It _is_ real."

"Can I touch _your_ hair now?" Jimmy reached for the under butler's head.

"Why does everyone want to touch me hair?" Recalling Alfred's want a couple of days prior.

"You do have very nice hair Mr Barrow." Anna told him.

"Do you want to touch his hair?" Jimmy asked her.

"Not especially."

"Does he not have lovely hair as you just said?" Jimmy grew frantic in accusing the ladies' maid.

"James, calm down."

"Why shouldn't I stick up for Mr Barrow's hair?" Jimmy wailed, throwing his head down on the table surface and slamming his fist three times into the wood.

"Are you constipated again James?" Anna asked with more sympathy than the tone of the question carried.

"Do I look constipated?" Jimmy raised his head, though how one could tell from his facial features was unknown.

"A bit." Anna took from his behaviour.

"May I go to the loo Mr Carson?"

"I think you'd better."

The footman scurried away from the room, leaving behind a table of snickering servants.

* * *

"Rise and shine Alfred. It's your turn."

"You're supposed to be in bed." Alfred looked at the clock on his table as the first footman came into his room at four o'clock in the morning.

"I don't care. You still haven't done your bit and now is the time."

"Fine. I'm starting to think this is getting out of hand." Alfred removed himself from bed.

"Only because you don't want to do this. Now come on."

Alfred, only wearing his under wear, crept downstairs behind the robed Jimmy. They came into the servant's hall, and Alfred suddenly felt very exposed. "How long do I have to stand down here for?"

"Until someone finds you." Jimmy grinned, "Nighty night."

"What if it's Ivy?"

"Then you'll have your chance to talk to her. Besides, her catching you in your pants might be just what she needs to spur her on." He winked. _Though judging by what I'm seeing-_

"Well at least they're not too tight."

_Thank god for that mercy at least._

With that Jimmy went back upstairs to bed leaving Alfred alone in his drawers, waiting for someone to come and relieve him from his post.

* * *

"Alfred?"

_Oh yes, of course it would be him_. "Mr Barrow!" Alfred turned, covering his nether regions as best as he could with his hands, in the presence of the under butler.

"What were you doing?"

_Oh god, what were I doing?_ "I were sleepwalking."

"You weren't asleep."

"I was."

"No you weren't. Why are you down here in your underwear?"

"I've been having nightmares, Mr Barrow."

"Nightmares? What about?"

_About you coming to kiss me in me sleep, and make me wear me tight pants_. "That I'm… pregnant. Me hair's falling out and I'm naked in a field giving birth, and there's lots of cheese."

"I don't quite know what to say to that Alfred." Mr Barrow said uncomfortably.

"Me neither."

"That doesn't explain why you're down here in your underwear."

"I just ran Mr Barrow, I were scared and I were waiting for someone to come and comfort me."

"I see. Do you need comforting?"

_How? How does this happen? I swear Jimmy has planned all of this, I bet he told Mr Barrow I were down here. _"I do Mr Barrow. I really do."

"Umm all right." Mr Barrow inched nearer to Alfred, who pulled his best look of being distressed, which wasn't far off his normal expression. Mr Barrow put his arm around the youngster and patted him on the back. "There there now. It'll be all right. Mr Barrow's here. You're not pregnant. You're a bloke, you will never be pregnant. So all that other nonsense, you can forget it, all right?"

_Mr Barrow's hugging me! If his hand goes any lower he'll get me fist in his teeth. _"Thank you Mr Barrow. You are my rock."

"Are you hitting on me Alfred?"

_You wish, these pants are mine and you're not getting your hands on or in them pally_. "No, no Mr Barrow. I'm just very emotional lately."

When Mr Barrow took his arm away he jumped from Alfred to put as much distance between them as quickly as possible. "Because you're worried you're pregnant? Different? Ginger? Or is it because your pants are tight?"

"Uh… all of them… except the being different, and being pregnant."

"And you took care of the ginger one yesterday. No one will mind you're ginger now after that fiasco." Mr Barrow looked over Alfred's hair, which was back to how it normally was. Much to the under butler's relief. "Now you better go and get dressed before Mr Carson comes down and has a fit."

"Righto."

"What's going on down here?" A female voice intruded, which could only belong to one lady.

"Alfred here had a nightmare, didn't you Alfred?"

"Yes Mrs Patmore." Alfred curled up in embarrassment at the cook's presence.

"So why is he down here? Pray tell; dressed to kill." The cook asked, hands on her hips.

"He were waiting for _me_ Mrs Patmore, he needed a hug from Mr Barrow." The under butler gave the footman a smug look.

"Blimey, it's like asking the devil for forgiveness."

Alfred replied, "What can I say Mrs Patmore? Mr Barrow gives me strength." _Strength to kill meself perhaps_.

"Maybe if he's got any spare he can give some to me." The cook waddled off into the kitchen, cackling.

"Off you go Alfred, next time you have a nightmare, put some clothes on before you run."

"Yes Mr Barrow." _I hate that man._


	6. Chapter 6

**I hope this chapter is all right, it was soooo hard to write. Actually it all is pretty much. But this chapter more so because the dares take place simultaneously. Humour is so much more difficult than other writing, I find. Anyway hope you enjoy. Thank you for reading. I warn you that it's pretty fast paced in places. **

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Jimmy knew Alfred had followed through with his dare when he came down that morning for breakfast, and as expected the kitchen erupted with gossip of Mrs Patmore finding Mr Barrow comforting a de-clothed Alfred. The second footman told Jimmy in private of the true version of what took place that morning and not Mrs Patmore's ideas that Alfred was now stalking the under butler with his under wear. This gave Jimmy the idea that Alfred should agree with everything anyone says to him, but exaggerate it unashamedly, and on top of that he should pretend to be afraid of cheese for Mr Barrow's benefit. Alfred then retaliated with the dare that Jimmy has to compliment anyone who says 'Missus', including Jimmy himself. How hard could that be? Not easy, it turned out, as Mrs Patmore supervised Ivy and Daisy serving up the servants' dinner;

"This looks lovely Mrs Patmore." Jimmy said. _How on earth? The first thing I ruddy say!_

"Ah, so you can eat today then?" Mrs Patmore questioned him.

"Yes. I need to, to keep up me fabulous body tone." The footman tensed his body to emphasise his claim.

"Oh lord." The cook rolled her eyes. "You're a vain one Jimmy Kent and no mistake."

"Nothing new there then." Mr Barrow commented wryly.

"Alfred, what's the matter?" Ivy approached the second footman, who was staring at the cheese soufflé on his plate.

"I'm sorry. I can't eat it."

"Not _you_ now?" Mrs Patmore said, growing tired of the footmen rejecting her efforts, "You don't have the constipation or, what was it, the gas?" She glared at Jimmy, though it was Alfred who, according to the terms of his dare, had to do the opposite of deny the cook's assumption.

"Yes. I have the gas… I might explode."

"Quick, clear the room." Mr Barrow said dryly.

"Do you need some laxatives Alfred?" Mrs Hughes cut to the chase.

"Uh- yes, I think I'll die if I don't." Alfred gave her a panic stricken look.

"I think we all will by the sound of it." Mr Barrow said.

"I think they're all gone Mrs Hughes." Mr Carson told the housekeeper.

"You know everything Mr Carson, like how you manage to keep your eyebrows so tidy." Jimmy said.

"I beg your pardon James?"

"Sorry Mr Carson, nothing."

"Will you be all right Alfred?" Ivy asked the footman in concern.

"I will be on top of the world." _Wow, Ivy's speaking to me; maybe I should have gas more often_. Mrs Patmore reached over and took the soufflé from him. "I'm sorry about that. Thank you Mrs Patmore."

"Why Alfred, you are dressed mighty fine today." Jimmy gave Alfred the eye.

_I could get used to this._ "I dress like a King, Jimmy." Alfred adjusted his lapels.

"Good that you know it for once Alfred." Anna said, "Alfred's having a bit of a time of it lately aren't you?"

"Well, just usual, uh… man problems."

"Not the man problems again!" Mr Barrow groaned. "I've had it up to here with man problems." Mr Barrow raised his hand, level to the top of his head.

"Not when it could be up to there with Alfred's pants." A chorus of giggling filled the table at Ivy's remark.

"What did you say?" Mr Carson asked the girl, wide eyed.

"Uh, nothing Mr Carson."

"It better be."

"I'm not stalking Mr Barrow with me pants." Alfred whispered urgently at the kitchen maid as she came next to him to give him some bread, not noticing Mr Barrow across the table who was clearly enjoying himself at Alfred's expense.

"If you say so." The maid chuckled as she continued her way around the servants.

"Miss O'Brien, maybe you should have a word with your nephew." Anna suggested.

"Alfred, do you want to talk about it?" The scheming ladies' maid asked her nephew, unaware that he was having any kind of problems.

"Talking would be a sweet melody to me ears."

"Not now though Miss O'Brien." Mrs Hughes wished to keep more conversation of man problems and pants away from the dinner table.

"Of course, Mrs Hughes." Miss O'Brien said.

_The thirteenth labour of Hercules has been unearthed; to compliment Miss O'Brien_. "Miss O'Brien I love what you've done with your hair today, it doesn't look so straw-like." Jimmy gave her a hardened grin.

"Thank you James, how kind of you to notice." Miss O'Brien smiled in surprise at the first footman.

"You're being very nice today James." Mrs Hughes said, neither lady seeming to notice that saying someone's hair isn't as straw like as normal isn't really that nice.

"I try Mrs Hughes." _Damn!_ "It's not as nice as my hair though, I feel it shines just right today." Jimmy made a point of touching his hair lightly.

"Maybe it's that brush. Or have you put something in it to entice Mrs Patmore?" Mr Barrow quipped.

"No, but I take back everything I said about _your_ hair Mr Barrow; it's perfection, and not a wig."

"It's nice you finally realise that."

"What about _my_ hair, Jimmy?" Ivy begged for the same treatment.

"It's all right I suppose." Jimmy turned his lip up indifferently. _She didn't say 'Missus'._

"I hate to put an end to such scintillating conversation, but I need to tell you that owing to the fact you are all going to the fair there's a lot to be done." Mr Carson announced, "So Alfred, I have a lot of silver that needs polishing, it seems too much really but do you think you can do it?"

"Yes Mr Carson, I can do _all_ the silver."

"Oh, how very good of you."

"Yes, I am the best."

"Steady on now, there's no need for that." The butler reprimanded the footman.

"Yes Mr Carson, I feel terrible." Alfred hung his head in shame.

"And James, I'll need you to wind all the clocks in the house."

"I can help him Mr Carson." Mr Barrow offered.

"You have enough to do Mr Barrow." Mr Carson said.

"I don't mind. Then he could help Alfred get through all the silver. Unless Alfred's that determined to prove himself."

"That's very good of you Mr Barrow, isn't it James, Alfred?"

"Yes, thank you Mr Barrow." Jimmy said, followed by Alfred's proclamation;

"You are the best Mr Barrow."

"Don't you maids think you're out of it, we'll give every room a thorough cleaning while they're away." Mrs Hughes looked down the table at the maids who were giggling at how much work the footmen were being given to do, but their faces immediately straightened at Mrs Hughes' words.

"Yes Mrs Hughes." Edna spoke for them.

"But extra work will make Edna all sweaty and ruin her complexion!" Jimmy cried.

"Her complexion has nothing to do with you James." The housekeeper said.

"Yes Mrs Hughes." _Bloody hell, why does a servant have to automatically address superiors formally_, "I suppose it's blotchy compared to my radiant skin." Jimmy instinctively stroked his cheek, as everyone else at the table rolled their eyes.

"I'm looking forward to the fair." Alfred said.

"It's right expensive though." Daisy replied.

"Surely you have enough for a beef sandwich and a few rides?" Mrs Patmore urged.

"I'll buy you all a bottle of pop if you like?" The benevolent Mr Barrow came to Daisy's rescue.

"What an offer, let's take him up on it before he changes his mind." Mrs Patmore said in excitement.

"Thanks Mr Barrow I can buy me own pop." Jimmy spoke for himself. _Still, Mr Barrow's being very nice today, and yesterday, and the day before, and the-_

"Don't talk like you've got money to burn." Jimmy's thought were interrupted by the assistant cook.

"I can always get money."

"It'll be like a proper work outing, all of us going, it'll be well nice." Daisy continued.

"Not all of us, someone has to stay." Mrs Hughes looked about the table, expecting that someone to jump up, and it turned out to be the butler.

"I will."

"Oh why don't you come, Mr Carson?"

"I'd sooner chew broken glass Mrs Hughes."

"But Mr Carson, I've been waiting to see how handsome you look in day clothes!" Jimmy exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon James?"

"Sorry Mr Carson."

"Maybe we should embrace this new side to James, Mr Carson, it's not often he's so generous with his compliments." Mrs Hughes suggested.

"It is an interesting development Mrs Hughes." Mr Barrow eyed up the blonde footman suspiciously, who returned his gaze.

"You would know wouldn't you Mr Barrow with those… uh… dazzling, yet penetrating eyes of yours?" _I wonder what he's thinking behind them though._

"I've changed me mind Mrs Hughes, it's a bit strange."

"I'm only saying how… handsome I think you are. You're so pale, and yet dark; like the night. Everyone else says so too."

"I certainly know Alfred's been thinking it." Mr Barrow curled his lips inwards to stop himself from laughing.

At this Alfred choked on the cup of tea he had against his lips.

"You all right there Alfred?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes. I'm a model of health." Alfred answered through his splutters, doubled over the table.

"But you were choking?"

"I'm suffocating."

"Do you need a smack?"

"Yes… Smack me, smack me hard!" Alfred yelled. To which Jimmy gave him a slap on the back, and Alfred winced in pain at the force, and slowly sat up straight.

"Better?"

"Wonderful. Thank you Jimmy." Alfred said through clenched teeth. _I hate you._

"What's Alfred been saying Mr Barrow?" Anna returned to the conversation which was interrupted by Alfred's distress.

"Apparently that I'm yummy."

"Is that right Alfred?" Mrs Hughes asked.

_HA I GET TO SAY 'MISSUS', REVENGE ON JIMMY!_ "Uh- Yes Mrs Hughes, Mr Barrow is… a beast." _Maybe not. A BEAST?!_

"A what?"

"You're not so bad yourself Alfred." Jimmy cut in, hopefully unnoticed.

"A beast is a term I read in a book- meaning yummy." Alfred replied to Mrs Hughes.

"I know it weren't the dictionary." Mr Barrow said.

"You think Mr Barrow's a 'beast'?" Anna tried to get this all straight in her head.

"Yes, a great big beast."

"I fear we've walked in on an Oscar Wilde novel here." Mr Bates said to himself.

"James, what did you say?" Finally Mrs Hughes had caught up with Jimmy's contribution.

"Nothing Mrs Hughes." _Damnable!_ "I think me particular attractiveness this evening has gone to me head."

"It's certain if you thinks Alfred is 'yummy'." Mr Barrow said.

"I think it's gone to all your heads." Mrs Hughes exclaimed.

Only Alfred answered the housekeeper, "It's definitely gone to my head. I feel like I'm going mad. Anyway why can't I be yummy Mr Barrow?" Alfred turned to the under butler in offence at his previous remark.

"Do you think of yourself as yummy?"

"Yes. I believe I am…" _Not a beast, most definitely not a beast_, "…a beast."

"Blimey."

"I am genuinely petrified Mrs Hughes." Mr Carson blinked at the madness which had overcome his footmen.

"That'll ruin your mature handsomeness Mr Carson." Jimmy said, just as the time came for the dressing gong to be rung.

"Thank god, the dressing gong needs ringing. I'll deal with you two later." He pointed at the footmen.

"I know we deserve it Mr Carson." Alfred dropped his head to his chest.

The servants cleared the room, but Anna approached the footmen and asked them; "What have you boys been eating? Because I'm going to steer clear of it."


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you all so much for reading, I'm so happy for your reviews and how well this has been received. I thought I would end up deleting it after the first two chapters in failure of my ability to make people laugh. Hope you like this chapter, I've been quite excited about posting this one (if I'm allowed to say so). It's a bit different from the others. Please enjoy!**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

"You did well at dinner." Alfred gave Jimmy the compliment as they headed upstairs to discuss the commotion they caused at dinner.

"You too. Just lucky I suppose that we haven't got into serious trouble."

Mr Carson had not spoken to Alfred and Jimmy about the incident as he said he would, he did not say why but it was indicated that the ever so sly and calculating Mr Barrow had something to do with it, but still the footmen knew they could not expect the under butler to jump to their rescue every time.

"It's bound to happen though. I think we need to be more subtle."

"How?"

"Maybe when Mr Carson's not in the room, like in the evening or at night."

"All right. Well the fair will provide perfect opportunity, but for tomorrow I dare you to get up in the night, creep into Mr Barrow's bedroom, and hide under his bed."

"What? Why are you encouraging this?"

"Because it's funny." Jimmy cackled.

"How long would I have to stay there for?" Alfred asked nervously, not agreeing or disagreeing to carry out the dare.

"Until he leaves."

"That's mad, I'll be late for breakfast."

"You can make sure your stuffs all ready and that beforehand, and I can help you dress."

"How wonderful." Alfred said sarcastically, "Then you have to tell everyone that that is not your real hair."

Jimmy clutched his hair and pointed religiously at Alfred, "BLASPHEMY! Besides Mr Barrow already proved it's real."

"It could be a toupee stuck on really well." Alfred shrugged, but the first footman gave him such a repulsive look he came up with something else, "Fine, in that case you have to hide under the bed in someone else's room."

"Didn't we have a rule of no same dares?"

"No we didn't."

"Ah. Who's bedroom?"

"Anyone's. Either that or you have to tell everyone your hair is actually a wig."

Jimmy stroked his hair lovingly, "All right, all right, anything but that. I'll do it."

* * *

That night Jimmy crawled out of bed and came into the corridor which he crept down silently, but the odd floorboard conspired to give him away as it squeaked, opening a door he found that the room behind it was a spare. Quietly closing it he turned to go down the other end of the hall, but the sound of a door handle turning made him panic and he darted into the door opposite him. It was pitch black, he pressed his ear to the door, and heard the sound of footsteps, he kept listening, in the time that passed he suddenly realised where he was as he saw none other than the under butler asleep on the bed. Jimmy's mouth dropped as he gave a muted scream and shoved his fist into his mouth. He had to get out of there, but the sound of a door slamming outside saw the under butler stir from his sleep so Jimmy dropped down onto the floorboards, the man in the bed was now facing him, if he opened his eyes he would see the first footman lying on his floor in his underwear. Turning himself carefully Jimmy brought his body parallel to the bed and rolled underneath it and lay on his back, staring up at the springs above his head. He wiped his face with his hands and shook his head. How did this happen? What could he do? He couldn't leave in case Mr Barrow woke up and found him there.

Things only worsened as a certain amount of time later, Jimmy couldn't tell just how long but it couldn't have been more than an hour, the doorknob rattled precariously and a faint light poured through into the room, Jimmy saw it on his elbow as he kept his hands folded together on his stomach. The footman banged the back of his head against the floor in frustration and the light went out as the door shut, a pair of feet came into view, as did the pair of knees above them, which bent, and the body they supported dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed right next to Jimmy. Alfred. The first footman immediately silenced Alfred's mouth with his hand as the ginger grew hysterical and banged his head on the bottom of the bed as he lurched in alarm before collapsing back down. The footmen, both dressed in only their underwear, when recovered from their shock whispered so quietly they could barely be heard and had to gesticulate and exaggerate the movements of their mouths to make themselves understood.

"What are you doing here?" Alfred mouthed.

"I went to another room but someone came out so I had to come in here."

"Well get out."

"I can't. You're in the way."

"Go out that side and go around."

The push from the second footman was what Jimmy needed, that and the prospect of spending the night lying under Mr Barrow's bed with Alfred. He rolled himself out from the bed and slithered his body around the room, his chest not leaving the floor. _I bet me hair is a right mess. _He was before the door, Jimmy looked at Alfred who was signalling for the blonde to reach up and open it_. Like I really need telling. _Luckily the under butler was a restless sleeper and had turned over so his back was towards Jimmy. This gave the blonde confidence and he stood up carefully, putting his hand on the doorknob, he turned it, but when he pulled it came off in his hand. There was a clatter as the other half of the knob fell off the door and the noise sent Jimmy back to the floor and he rolled under the bed, flailing his hands at Alfred to move over, the door knob still in his hand. They were now locked in the room with a sleeping under butler.

The rest of the night was spent in discomfort as there was little room under the bed, the footmen tried lying on their sides with their backs to each other, but it was so uncomfortable they had to swallow their pride and lie shoulder to shoulder, they both folded their arms in resilience, their elbows knocking into each other, which ended with them fighting. Neither of them slept a wink, made only the more worse as they couldn't talk about their predicament or just exactly what they should do. Before they came into the room they would have dreaded the rising of the sun, as that would mean the waking of the man lying above them, but instead Jimmy and Alfred found they were overjoyed that their salvation was soon approaching. That was until…

* * *

_Oh my god he's undressing, the under Barrow, the Mr butler is undressing. I mean the- oh never mind he's undressing right in front of us, dear lord. It's so wrong, but why can't I stop looking? He has nice knees. Better than Alfred's anyway. It's so wrong that I can actually compare now. Why do I want to tackle those masculine shins and bite his ankle? Snap out of it Jimmy! _

Alfred was hiding his eyes, though he would only be able to see as far as the under butler's knees should he look beyond the bed, but just seeing those clothes go cascading around the room left enough to the imagination. It was at that moment the footmen realised they could be accused of perversion and could get sacked if they were caught. They panicked. Alfred was desperately trying not to sob into his hands and was rocking back and forth under the bed as Jimmy tried to steady him in case the practically naked man should hear them. It would be worse if he caught them now when they would be forced to emerge and look at his exposed body. Fortunately the clothes soon went on and Alfred could unshield his eyes as Jimmy could tell that Mr Barrow had at least put on some trousers and an undershirt. Before he dressed himself further his feet turned towards the bed and stopped. The footmen hugged into each other to make themselves as small as possible. Their arms wrapped around the other's body in fear, Jimmy was practically lying on top of Alfred in a bid to obscure themselves from sight. The legs by the bed bent into kneeling position and Mr Barrow's face appeared and looked straight at the footmen, who squealed girlishly.

"Uh, excuse me, what are you doing under me bed?"

Jimmy cleared his throat. "Mr Barrow. Morning." He said as casually as possible, as if it were perfectly natural for them to be there.

"Get out." Mr Barrow said bluntly.

"Yes Mr Barrow."

The footmen slid out from the bed and presented themselves to the under butler, who strangely enough seemed more confused than angered as he examined the two footmen wearing even less than he was, and saw Jimmy had his doorknob in his hand.

"I see you've retrieved me doorknob."

_Why am I still holding this?_ "Oh yes, we found it and wanted to bring it back to you." He handed it to Mr Barrow who tossed it on the bed.

"So you hid under me bed and waited until I woke up to tell me? Not to mention managed to get in through the door when there were no handle." The under butler looked at them suspiciously.

"Good point." Jimmy confessed. _He's so smart._

"What's going on?" Mr Barrow asked them straight out.

"I had a nightmare Mr Barrow." Alfred piped up.

"I see. The same as-"

"Yes, exactly the same as before." _I'm not inventing a new dream, God knows what I'd say._

"So why are you here?"

"I just wanted to be near you. You were such a comfort last time." Alfred could not look at the under butler as he spoke, realising this was the second time he had claimed to have nightmares and been found in his pants by Mr Barrow.

"And you James?"

_I'm stalking you? I need you to sort out me man problems and braid me hair; where's a fork when you need one? _- "I had a nightmare too, and I remember Alfred telling me how good you were with him, and how much he thinks of you, just how sensitive you are, and well I thought maybe you could help me."

"What nightmare was it?"

_Uhhhhh, nothing as girly as Alfred's- _"Well, there were a unicorn in a field, the most beautiful unicorn in the world. It were white with a pink mane adorned with daisies and rose blossoms, and it had a shiny horn which sparkled in the sun, but then it were chased away by some evil… ducks, and they chased the unicorn through the woods, but then it fell in a river and the current dragged it over a waterfall, it were falling down, and crashed upon the rocks. The other unicorns cried, and it were very sad."

Alfred touched his eyes discretely and laid one hand on the blonde's shoulder, "That were beautiful Jimmy."

"That's… that's terrible." Mr Barrow looked at the floor and shook his head in sorrow, Jimmy could have sworn that the ebony headed man even sniffed, "It upset you that much?"

_You can't say 'yes', you're a man!_ "Well that and when I woke up I saw me hair were a mess." _I'm_ _a man with ongoing man problems mind_, "I knew I just needed to uh be with some real men and do uh man things to get these images out of me head."

"Man things?" Mr Barrow raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, y'know, talk about boobs, cars, drink some beer, wrestle, urinate against a wall." _That's what real men do right?_

Mr Barrow looked at Jimmy pensively, "So you came in here to ask if I wanted to urinate against a wall with you?"

"Isn't that a normal request?" Jimmy asked innocently.

"Not really, and I thought I'd be the last person you'd come to talk to about boobs." Mr Barrow said the final word as if it were an alien conception to him.

"Can you imagine me talking about boobs with Mr Carson?" Jimmy cocked his head.

"Can you imagine talking about boobs with me?" The under butler deflected.

"You were the next best option, can't talk to Alfred about it, he dreams that he's pregnant." Jimmy gave the ginger a look of judgement.

"Hey, doesn't mean you can't talk to me about boobs, or that I can't urinate against a wall with you." Alfred said in offence.

"Fine, next time, I will come to you and we will talk about boobs, and urinate."

The under butler screwed up his face at the direction the conversation had taken, "Lads, enough with the boobs and urinating. Just tell me why didn't you wake me if you wanted to talk?"

_Because you're so pretty when you sleep_. "I heard crying from under your bed and it were Alfred, and we- uh- we shared our dreams. It were beautiful. We cried each other to sleep." Jimmy patted Alfred on the back in show of their closeness to verify their story.

"Are you telling me that while I've been tucked up asleep I've had two footmen crying under me bed over unicorns and giving birth in a cheesy field?"

"Yes, but less creepy than how you make it sound." Jimmy said.

"Under me bed, with me in it? It is a bit creepy."

"Sorry Mr Barrow." The footmen apologised.

"I don't know what's going on with you two, but it's very unusual."

"I don't know what to say Mr Barrow." Alfred said.

"Nor do I. Now off you go, the last thing I need is Mr Carson seeing two scantily clad young men retreat from me room." He shooed the mischievous pair away.

"You won't tell him then?" Alfred asked hopefully.

"I think I'm as guilty as you are of sneaking into people's rooms in the night." The under butler said with as much good spirit as he could, as all three of them knew that Mr Barrow was right, this was the first time any of them had mentioned the situation with Mr Barrow there, and the footmen could see the guilt spreading across his face, after all this time it was still there, and suddenly the tension became very real and sincere.

"Thank you Mr Barrow." Jimmy said with a kind smile. _Maybe Alfred were right about talking to Mr Barrow about what happened, even now, seeing this, has made me feel so differently towards him, happier somehow. God he's so lovely._

"By the way, did you see me undress?" The under butler asked awkwardly.

_If only_. _WHOA!_ "We couldn't see anything. We saw your knees; that were about it." Jimmy assured him.

"Lovely knees they were too." Alfred decided to add, with a shrug, as Jimmy gave him a confused look.

"Thank you Alfred." The under butler said, "Now get off with you."

"Uh- Mr Barrow?" Jimmy called him as the pair got to the door, "The doorknob?"

* * *

**Sorry, I had to mention the unicorns. For those of you who understand that reference. :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**First, I'm sorry this chapter took a little longer. I only ever planned this to be 6 chapters (and that was if it was liked at all)! But your wonderful responses have spurred me on to write more and it took me a little longer to come up with ideas (it's very hard you know! Can't believe still that I came up with just one idea that was liked) and the pressure from ivyjanelily and mcabbey80 to carry on and to top chapter 7 was weighing on me :P Though I do thank you for this. I'm now worried this is going to encourage me on to write more humour pieces in future.**

**Thank you so much to you all for reading and supporting this story, you have given me such a confidence boost :)**

**Also there's a little treat in here for chocolateapples1432, didn't think I could do it, but I have. ;)**

**Oh and if you were starting to feel sorry for our long suffering under Barrow, I mean Mr butler, well, you ain't seen nothing yet :P**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

"This morning were close." Alfred said, as he and Jimmy came downstairs after dressing hurriedly since they wasted most of their time that morning under Mr Barrow's bed.

"We're lucky Mr Barrow's being so good about it all. We don't exactly deserve it." _What would we have done to him if he were caught under our beds?_

"After all we've done this week I think we do deserve it." Alfred argued.

"Never mind; I have a dare you should like; you have to be a man."

"But I am a man." Alfred said confusedly.

"No, a manly man, the manliest most manly man in the world."

"What, with the boobs, and the-"

"Yes. Boobs, urinating, drinking, defending damsels in distress, fights, that sort of thing."

_I suppose I could use a little masculinity_. "All right. You are not allowed to have any respect for personal boundaries."

"Huh?"

"Get up close; express _everything_ with your body. Be all over familiar, touchy feely."

_Joy_. "Go on then."

* * *

Lunch was the first opportunity Alfred had for showing off his masculinity, he made an effort to ask one of the gardeners for a cigarette, not wanting to ask Mr Barrow for one, and once he mastered which way it was supposed to be lit (having failed twice at this) he went into the kitchen, ready to make some women swoon.

"Alfred, what are you doing?" Daisy asked him as he leaned against the wall watching the cook, her assistant and maid working over the counter.

"I'm smoking."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a man. This is what men do." Alfred informed the girls before erupting into a bout of coughs and splutters.

"My god he is actually turning into Mr Barrow." Ivy said out the corner of her mouth, but not out of Alfred's hearing.

"No I'm not, I'm still me, but I'm worse than Mr Barrow, I come after young maidens in the night, no one is safe when I'm around. So Ivy, how about we steal Mrs Hughes' bicycle and I'll take you to the pictures later? You can ride on the handle bars."

"As tempting as that sounds Alfred," The maid said sceptically, "I don't think Mrs Patmore will let me go."

"Too right, and I should tell Mrs Hughes that you're on about pinching her bike." Mrs Patmore whined.

"I'll bring it back… unless I decide to sell it and buy some whiskey."

"Whiskey?" The cook repeated.

"Oh yes, I'm a heavy drinker me, they call me… 'the ginger sinker' down the local, because sink 'em all under the table in drinking matches." Alfred boasted in his lie which Ivy seemed to believe.

"Wow. I should like to see that."

"I'm afraid it's too rough for girls like you. There are often fights."

"Fights?"

"Yeah," Alfred sniffed, "someone gets on the wrong side of me, they go down. That's another reason they call me 'the ginger sinker'." He put the cigarette to his lips, but not inhaling anything.

"I'm sure I could handle meself, especially if I have 'the ginger sinker' there to protect me." Ivy mused.

"It's an all men bar, they don't let women in, because they should be at home making me tea."

"Alfred!" The three women shrieked.

"What?"

"That's a bit sexist." Daisy spoke for them.

"It's true isn't it? Women stay at home and cook while men are out doing…" _What did Jimmy say?_ "Talking about boobs and cars, drinking, and er- urinating against walls."

"Well I'll be having none of that in me kitchen." Mrs Patmore told him.

"Alfred I think the smoke's gone to your head. You should stop. What would Miss O'Brien say if she were here?" Ivy added.

"What can she say? She smokes as well."

"Doesn't mean she'd like you doing it, that and talking about these things."

_No! I didn't think of that. _"Wouldn't she?"

"No."

"Well, who cares? It's not like she's me mum, I can do what I like. I'm a rebel. A beast. A man." The footman doubled over into a second coughing fit as smoke hit the back of his throat.

The women ignored his discomfort as Ivy asked, "What's been with you this week? You've been all over the place."

"I'm going through a hard time in me life, Ivy, where a man has to make choices. You wouldn't understand being…" _What were it? Oh yes,_ "a woman."

"I don't think I want to understand."

"Good, you shouldn't, because it can be very dangerous."

"Well I suppose, threatening to cause explosions in the servant's hall, and jumping on Mr Barrow in your pants-"

"I were sleepwalking!" Alfred was quick to interrupt Ivy's train of thought.

"If you say so."

"I do. I've been having dreams." Alfred said, gazing philosophically into the distance.

"What kinds of dreams?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Alfred hung his head but still managed to reassure them, "But it's all very manly!"

His audience rolled their eyes just as Jimmy came onto the scene, and Mrs Patmore waddled up to him, "Oh thank god, for once I'm glad to see you, get Alfred out of me hair would you James?!"

_Express meself with me body, right._ "I'm glad to see you too Mrs Patmore." The footman threw his arms around the cook and held her to him.

"Excuse me, just what do you think you're doing?"

"It's that smell again Mrs Patmore. It's back." He squeezed the cook, sensing her wriggling away from him.

"Well you're very close James."

"Sorry, I'll move." The blonde loosened his arms and stepped away and stood before the cook, his face just inches away from hers.

"James, you're still close."

"I'm sorry Mrs Patmore! Please forgive me!" Jimmy collapsed onto his knees and embraced the cook's skirts.

"All right if you're getting that upset." The woman waved him away from her.

"Oh thank you." Jimmy said letting go of the skirt but still knelt on the floor for a moment just as the under butler came in. _I swear this man is everywhere! Unless he has a more attractive twin, he does look very mysterious today. Meow... __Meow? I mean uh – woof! Oh, that's not much better._

"What's this? James finally popping the question Mrs Patmore?" Mr Barrow deduced from the image before him.

"Don't ask Mr Barrow. I don't know. Get up James." The cook replied.

Jimmy went around behind Mrs Patmore and put his head on her shoulder and stroked the top of her head with his hand like she was a kitten.

"James what has come over you?" The cooks dared to ask.

"I just love you." The footman snuggled into the cook's shoulder, but glared at Alfred, who was clearly enjoying Jimmy's discomfort in between choking on his cigarette, until Mr Barrow confiscated it from him for his own good.

"If it's because you're constipated again I don't want you near me, so get off." Mrs Patmore tapped the footman on the head with enough force to make him wince and remove himself from her.

"Sure thing Mrs Patmore." Giving her a smack on the behind as he passed her, grimacing at his action as soon as he did it. _Why did I have to do that? To her of all people? Especially when Mr Barrow- I mean when Ivy's here-_

"Oo you cheeky-" Mrs Patmore yelped.

"Alfred!" Mr Barrow slid in to save the day as usual, before the cook could finish her sentence, "I just wanted to say that if you have nightmares again tonight about being pregnant, and you want Mr Barrow to look after you, then can you please wake me up this time and wear some clothes?" Before gliding away, wearing a smug expression on his face.

"You dream about being pregnant?" Ivy gaped.

"No! He's just er-"

"What did he mean, 'wake him up this time'?"

"Er-"

"And what did he mean about 'wearing clothes'?"

_Will she bloody let me get an answer out?_ "Nothing! It's nothing! I don't know what he's talking about, he's bonkers that man. It's because he's getting old, he can't remember things and he just wants an excuse to talk to me because… well I'm a real man. Who wouldn't want to talk to me?"

"Or maybe it's not just maidens who you come after at night." Ivy snickered.

"I- I- He- I'm a man!" Alfred's voice broke as he ran from the room, seemingly in tears.

"I think it's well nice for a man to be so sensitive." Daisy commented.

"Just like you Daisy." Jimmy moved around the counter and hugged the assistant cook from behind, their cheeks together; he could see Ivy giving them envious looks. _Who cares?_

"Jimmy, you're being very familiar. You're not going to kiss me are you?"

"Well-" Jimmy considered, before shrugging, spinning the girl around in his arms and kissing her brusquely on the lips for just a second or two before dropping her. She was too stunned to speak, so Mrs Patmore was left to do the shouting.

"Oi! Put that girl down at once!"

"Sorry Mrs Patmore, I were overcome." Jimmy fell back against the counter dramatically as if he were feeling faint, "It's the smoke and your scent, I'm confused... and it's the constipation, I heard it can linger and go to your head." He grabbed the end of the cook's apron as she stood before him and dabbed his forehead with it until she yanked it away from him.

"Is it your attractiveness as well, gone to your head?"

"Well yes I suppose so." _Why not? It does seem like an obvious thing to happen._

"Don't let it make you go _too_ mad." Ivy sidled up to Jimmy and fluttered her eyelashes.

_Don't slap her, do not slap her_. "Yeah whatever." He dismissed her as he left the room, determined to make Alfred suffer right now in return for his own humiliation. So when he came into the servant's hall he cried out to the second footman, pointing his finger at the outer door. "All right, you, go urinate!"

"I'm in control of me own bladder thanks!" Alfred replied.

"I don't care, we have to get to work soon and I want to see you urinate against that wall! I'm not kissing Daisy and slapping Mrs Patmore's bum for nothing, so go and do it."

"Can't I just talk about cars?" The second footman whimpered.

"Now!"

"All right all right. Just keep watch then." He stood to be bustled outside by the blonde, "You kissed Daisy?"

"Get out!"

They came into the courtyard, which was thankfully empty, and Jimmy pushed the footman over to the wall where he waited for him to do his business, as it was part of the dare. "I don't like this." Alfred said as he buttoned his trousers.

"Have you never peed outside before?"

"No. Never had to funnily enough." There was a silence as Alfred tried to go. After about a minute he said croakily, "I can't go, there's too much pressure."

Jimmy came up behind him in exasperation and screamed in his ear, "Just do it! Do it Alfred, do it! Do it now!" Ignoring the second footman's wails.

"What's going on here?"

_Noooooo, noooooo, not him. _"Nothing Mr Barrow." Alfred said. _Please leave. Please._

"It looks like you're urinating against the wall." The under butler observed.

"Not exactly." _Not yet. Not ever, how can I go with you watching?_

"Have I walked in on a moment? Are you going to start crying in a minute?"

"What?" The footmen puzzled.

"Thought you might be sharing your dreams again, while doing uh – man things."

"How could we do that without you Mr Barrow?" Jimmy shook his head. _To be fair he's worth about ten men. I mean no other man could pull off a wig like he does while having such a strong pair of knees._

"I thought you might be waiting for me here, instead of under me bed."

The footmen here realised they were in fact in Mr Barrow's spot. "No we're not. I'm just watching Alfred take a leak." _Watching?_

"Does he need watching?"

"Yes. I've never seen another man go before, it interests me." _Ew._

"Right. Well. Does Alfred not mind?" The question directed at both footmen, Alfred still facing the wall with his trousers undone, having hoped he might have turned invisible.

"Not at all. Why not? I'm a man, I'm not ashamed." _Oh my god, I'm ashamed._

"Okay. Well I'm going to smoke, hope you don't mind." Mr Barrow lit a cigarette. Alfred could have sworn he heard the under butler smile as he spoke.

"No, no of course not." Alfred sobbed.

A couple of minutes passed and Alfred could not bring himself to go as Mr Barrow was stood on one side of him, while Jimmy was stood right on his shoulder, gazing intently over it, pretending as best he could to appear fascinated by what Alfred was trying to do, the task itself becoming impossible as the blonde was literally breathing down his neck.

"Are you all right?" The under butler asked Alfred, whose face now was darker than his hair and was clearly having trouble with finishing his business.

"Yes, fine. Just taking me time, I'm a man, men don't need to rush things. But I wish you didn't put your head there Jimmy."

"Am I distracting you?" The footman whispered into his ear.

"Just a bit." Alfred snarled.

"It could be worse," Jimmy said, "I could be holding it for you."

"Oh dear god." Alfred buttoned up his trousers, "That's it. I can't go now."

"What did I say?" The blonde said in all innocence as the ginger returned indoors, shuddering with every step.

* * *

Alfred managed to sneak out later on and complete his business against the wall with a big grin on his face as he returned triumphantly, until Mr Barrow pointed out that his trousers were still undone. He soon recovered as after dinner he moved onto the next topic on his list.

"I like boobs. Don't you?" The second footman put to the table, which only consisted of Jimmy, Mr Barrow and a couple of hall boys further along.

"Subtle, Alfred. Subtle." Jimmy was the only one to reply.

"Well they're all, round and… nice." Alfred continued.

"I'm sure they are." The blonde sighed.

"Alfred, dare I ask; why this need to prove yourself as a man?" Mr Barrow asked.

"Because I'm a man! This is what men do." Alfred thumped his fist against the table at every word.

"Right. Can you try not to prove yourself around me?"

"It's a bit hard Mr Barrow, I can't just turn it off you know?"

"Well I'm going into the kitchen and when I come back you better have moved the conversation on from girls' body parts." The under butler made good his word and went into the kitchen to return the empty cup he was drinking from.

"What does he expect us to talk about? _Male_ body parts?" Alfred asked.

"Well I saw a pretty interesting one today if you'd like to hear about it-"

"No! No! Never! Ever!" Alfred warned, collapsing his upper body on the table in desperation to ensure what happened earlier that day was never spoken of again.

Jimmy only cackled to himself at Alfred's embarrassment.

_I need to prove me manliness. I know what'll cut him down to size._ "Hey Jimmy, let's wrestle."

"Um I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Me hair will be a mess, and I'm not helping you win your dare." The youth folded his arms.

"I haven't done them all yet, still need to defend some damsels." Alfred raised his eyebrows at the unlikelihood of that scenario, which Jimmy didn't actually expect him to fulfil, "But who cares about hair? We're men aren't we? Damn hair and things." Alfred rose from his seat to loom over the shorter man.

_Damn hair? I ought to challenge him to a duel right now for such slander!_

"Oh come on Jimmy. Unless you're scared."

"Of course not. I'll take you. Just mind me hair." The footman rose to meet the other's challenge and they moved away from the table and they began to wrestle lightly. Pushing each other as a mere show of strength, Alfred's height was an advantage but his skinny frame was a hindrance. They parted and the pair threw a couple of playful punches to each other. Jimmy managed to push Alfred away and he fell over into a chair, he heard footsteps behind him and knew it was Jimmy coming to take advantage and swung his fist into the space which should have been above his head but instead it landed right under the chin of Mr Barrow who went flying backwards onto the floor.

"Mr Barrow!" Jimmy cried, before scolding the taller footman, "Alfred, what were that?!"

"It were an accident. I thought it were you."

"You knocked out the under butler!" Jimmy went down and saw Mr Barrow's eyes were closed, but he was breathing all right and wasn't bleeding. "He seems to be all right." _Thank god. His face is too pretty._

His attentions were distracted by Alfred clearing his throat. The blonde turned and Alfred was making a suggestion with his eyebrows that Jimmy still needed to fulfil the requirements of his dare.

"Really? Now?"

"Yes."

Jimmy looked down at the form of the under butler. _What the hell, I kissed Daisy and slapped Mrs Patmore's bum, I can do this_. He relaxed himself on Mr Barrow's body, while slapping his cheek to try and wake him. _Why do I want to kiss him awake? I suppose I could as part of the dare._

Before he could take his thought any further Mr Barrow opened his eyes. "Jimmy?" The under butler said, "What are you doing? Did Alfred punch you too?"

_I love it when he says me preferred name_. _He makes it sound sexy_. "No, no, I were scared for your health and were trying to keep you warm. You're very comfortable."

"That's very kind. I think I'll live though. Can you let me up?"

_No!_ "Sure."

"Thank you." The under butler adjusted his jaw and scowled unreservedly at the second footman who was contemplating running from the room. "Alfred!"

"I'm sorry Mr Barrow, you startled me." Alfred apologised.

"So you decided to punch me in the face?"

"I panicked?"

"At least your wig stayed on Mr Barrow." Jimmy tried to lighten the situation, but for some strange reason his comment only seemed to make things worse.

"It's not a wig! As for you Alfred you can stay up tonight shining shoes. _My_ shoes!"

"Yes Mr Barrow. Sorry Mr Barrow." Alfred hung his head.

"James you can stop holding me hand now." Mr Barrow said aside.

_How does this keep happening?_ "Sorry, I thought you might want some comfort." _And you have lovely hands_.

It was about time that the kitchen staff realised what was going on and came to investigate. "What's going on in here?" As soon as Mrs Patmore's eyes caught sight of the troublesome first footman she said to him, "James, you seem to be at the centre of chaos today. Any idea why, or do you just draw trouble?"

_Uh, oh no, what can I say?_ "Well er-" _That'll work_. He took a purposeful step forward and tripped forward, falling directly into Mrs Patmore's chest. The cook screamed at the inappropriate position of the footman as his head didn't seem to want to budge.

"James, get off at once!"

"mmmrnnnmmhhhmmm!" Came the muffled reply. Grabbing Mrs Patmore's arms he jerked himself free and drew a sharp breath as he was deprived for the last few seconds of oxygen and wept dramatically, "Oh god! I'm so sorry!" _Why did I ever think that would work?_

"You should be; assaulting all the women! Whatever are you like?" Mrs Patmore reprimanded the footman, slapping him away.

'_Defending damsels in distress', oh yes._ "He what?" Alfred took Jimmy by the shoulder, "How dare you Jimmy? As a man I can't stand by and let this happen. No one messes with the women while the ginger sinker's around!"

Alfred once again took to wrestling Jimmy in the same way as before. They pushed each other until it got to the point once again where punches were thrown, but with all the adrenaline rushing through Alfred at defending the women, and showing his manhood to Ivy, who was watching eagerly, the hits became more severe, but none of them hitting target as they were just hitting air really. It was only the chairs falling to the floor which suffered. Mrs Patmore tried to shout her objection to this fight, if it could be called such a thing, but this was no place for a woman. The under butler realised enough was enough and stepped in just as Jimmy ducked a blow, so nothing stopped Alfred's fist from landing in Mr Barrow's face a second time as the older man once again was knocked to the floor. Seeing this, Jimmy immediately leaped across and lay his body on top of the under butler in sympathy, but this time the older man was awake and rubbing his face in disbelief.

"I don't understand! Please god, help me understand! What have I done?!" He cried to the ceiling before looking at Jimmy and frowned helplessly, as a man at the end of his tether, "What… could you possibly want... right now?"

"I'm sorry Mr Barrow, I were making sure your wig stayed on."


	9. Chapter 9

**I don't know how I keep coming up with ideas, it's about as mad as this story. Sorry I made the Under Barrow Mr Butler suffer in the last chapter at the hands of the 'ginger sinker', but by no means is it over ;) Hope you enjoy this chapter as I went through such pains to write it as it is getting so hard. In fact this may have to be the last dares chapter to take place. Unless I come up with something very soon which is absolutely fantastic. Unlikely. But the story itself is not over yet. **

**Thank you so much for reading, and all the kind reviews. I'm thrilled my humour writing has had the desired affect :D **

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

In light of recent events, Alfred had come to a decision.

"I have come to a decision; I want to change the rules." Alfred boldly stepped up.

"You can't change the rules. They're the rules. If you could change them then they wouldn't be rules." Jimmy said.

"I don't care. I want to no longer do anything with Mr Barrow involved, so I'll be willing to do stuff involving Ivy."

_Hmmm_. "Fine, fair enough after you punched him, twice. Then nothing with me hair."

"So you'll do stuff with Mr Barrow?"

_Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, why can't something come along and kill me right now?_

"Can you really not decide?"

_He said about me saying me hair were a wig last time. I can't let that happen. I don't think it can be worse than being found under his bed in me underwear._ "Yes. I'll do stuff regarding Mr Barrow."

"HA! I weren't going to give you one about your hair anyway! Haha!"

_Since when was Alfred smart? _"I loathe you. That's it, this is war now."

"It's on. Let's see how you like it now. I dare you to style Mr Barrow's hair."

_Wow, that could have been worse. That'll be easy. I wouldn't mind getting me hands on his hair. If it's his. Oo I could give him a wave like mine. Eeee! At least I'll know if it's a good idea to ever dye me hair black, after all I can't have me hair looking stupid now can I? _"Then I dare you to hide from Mr Carson."

"How am I supposed to hide from Mr Carson?"

"Obviously not during dinner, but the rest of the time."

"How?"

"Just do what you would do when you're trying to hide from someone." Jimmy said obviously.

"Can we change the rules back?" Alfred regretted his earlier decision.

"Fine, if you want to kiss Mr Barrow." Jimmy teased.

"Damn you Jimmy Kent. Damn you."

* * *

Jimmy and Alfred came and sat in the servant's hall to have a break from all the cleaning. Anna, Miss O'Brien and Mr Bates had gone to Scotland with the family, and their absence was noticed as the room felt very empty. Then Mr Barrow came in and sat a few seats along from the footmen, looking cautious.

"What's the matter Mr Barrow?" Jimmy asked.

"Seeing as Alfred seems to make a habit of punching me, I thought I'd keep me distance."

"I'm sorry Mr Barrow. Does it hurt?" Alfred apologised.

"No. It's fine, I know it were an accident. But I appreciate the concern."

"If you like I can make it better." Jimmy offered.

"How's that then?"

_Not in the way you're thinking of._ "I could do your hair for you."

The under butler looked at the signature wave sticking out of Jimmy's head and tightened his lips to keep from laughing. "I'm all right thanks."

"Why not? I could make it look beautiful." Jimmy said romantically.

"I thought you said me hair were perfection."

"It is, it were, but today it's just… well, it's done that thing again hasn't it?"

"What thing?" A wave of self- consciousness swept Mr Barrow's features.

"Where it looks like a wig."

"Me hair does not look like a wig!" The under butler cried in frustration of the young blonde's unwillingness to accept that his hair was real.

"I think we both know that's not true don't we?"

"No we don't! Me hair looks real, how do I know this? Because it's _my_ hair, and it _is_ real."

"What do you do to it?" Jimmy scrutinised the under butler's hair closely.

"I put a comb through it. Stop trying to touch it." He flapped as Jimmy wiggled his fingers closer to his hair.

"Why? Will it fall off if I do? Is it unstable?"

"No, but I feel your head is." Mr Barrow retorted.

"What happens if you blow it?"

"I'm going." The older man stood up.

"No, please." Jimmy found himself grabbing the under butler's hand in his earnest." Let me do your hair, it could be so much more than it is; I could open you up to new worlds of… hair. Oh please. I could make you look amazing, not wig like." _Do I really care this much? Hang on, when did my hand get there?_

"You two need to make your minds up, one minute I'm handsome and perfect the next I look bald." Mr Barrow took his hand from the younger man.

"Well you are getting on a bit."

"Excuse me?!" Mr Barrow folded his arms.

"That's not a bad thing."

"How is it not?"

"It gives you a sexy mature look." Jimmy jiggled his head in consideration.

"And evil! Don't forget evil." Alfred's outburst warranted the other two to look at him.

"I look evil?" Mr Barrow raised an eyebrow; clearly he had never heard such a description of himself aesthetically.

"In a sexy, mature way. You yummy beast." Alfred said awkwardly, trying to compensate for attacking him the day before, with flattery. It was wrong that Jimmy and Mr Barrow were accustomed to this now, enough that the only reaction gained was a toss of the head.

"Right so next time I go to a club I'll be sure to use open with; 'Hi I'm Thomas and this is me wig'."

_Never realised how lovely his name his. Especially when he says it. It suits him so well._ "It might work." Jimmy said quietly.

"What is going on in here?" Mr Carson's voice filtered through the air.

"Mr Carson. James, Alfred and I were just-" Mr Barrow turned but the ginger headed footman was nowhere to be seen, "where's Alfred? He were here a second ago."

A knock from under the table, followed by a stifled moan answered the under butler's question as he bent down and peered beneath the surface, just as he did under the bed the morning before.

"Alfred, what are you doing under the table?"

_Uh, I fell asleep? The nightmares have come back and I'm waiting for Jimmy to come and join me so we can cry about unicorns and cheesy fields? _"I needed inspiration."

"What for?" Mr Barrow queried.

"For- er- A poem. Yes, I'm writing a poem!" Alfred folded his arms in satisfaction at his wit.

"What about?"

_Ah, didn't think about that. _"It's about...Legs. It's about legs… Mr Barrow's legs."

"What?" The other three men asked in unison.

"Yes. He has a good pair of legs does Mr Barrow. I thought I might write a poem about them." _Oh.. my.. God!_

"You're writing a poem about me legs?" Mr Barrow repeated.

"Yes." Alfred said awkwardly, this development seeing him retreat further under the table rather than out of it.

"How might that go?" Jimmy asked him, to stir the pot further, his face joining Mr Barrow's under the table.

_I hate Jimmy. Oh god, think of Mr Barrow's legs._ "It's not finished yet. So it won't be just right yet... Dark hair, on pale skin. Like the fuzz on a chin…. So strong and tall. The most beautiful legs of all. When I see them from under your bed- I mean table… their manliness… goes straight to me head." _What rhymes with table?_

The third set of knees bent and Mr Carson's face to join the others and the three looked at Alfred in utter bewilderment.

"Alfred. Have you been at the cider?"

"No Mr Carson."

"Well if you've got nothing better to do than gaze at Mr Barrow's legs maybe you could find something useful to do."

"Yes Mr Carson."

The three straightened up, and Alfred emerged from the table, as Mr Carson left his second in command to order the two youngsters to task, "All right lads, you heard Mr Carson. Seeing as we finished the clocks yesterday James you can finish Alfred's polishing of the silver, I trust there isn't much to be done."

"What about me Mr Barrow?" Alfred asked sheepishly.

"Well Alfred, I think you should finish that poem." Mr Barrow smirked. "I expect a recital tomorrow."

"Yes Mr Barrow." Alfred practically sobbed, while Jimmy restrained his amusement.

"So I can't do your hair later then Mr Barrow?" Jimmy questioned in a final plea, despite the ill timing of it.

"I don't think so James. After all, I've seen you do your hair, and I like to keep the silverware out of mine." The under butler grinned, before leaving the footmen alone to contemplate how the rest of their day should proceed, as they knew it was only just beginning.

* * *

After lunch Jimmy pulled Alfred over into the corridor to exchange much needed words;

"Alfred, I think we should go and thank Mr Barrow for last night."

"Why?"

"Let's see, you punched him in the face… twice, and we were practically perving on him in his room, not to mention your sudden romantic affair with his legs. He's been very good and hasn't said anything about it to anyone; on top of that he's kept us out of trouble with Mr Carson."

"He has?" Alfred scratched his head.

"Of course it's him. It's obvious; we should have been done after what happened at dinner the other day." Jimmy reminded him.

"It's only because he loves you."

"You what?"

"You can't tell me you don't know. It's obvious, even after everything. He won't let anyone say anything against you."

"Why? What have I done?" Jimmy asked searchingly.

"Nothing, I'm just saying he won't hear a bad word about you." Alfred informed him.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Yes it does."

"I still think we should speak to him." Jimmy pressed.

"Fine, but I'm not saying anything."

"Yes you are or I'll tell him you love him. Him and his manly legs." The blonde flashed a smile.

"I'm not romantically involved with his legs-" Alfred began but Jimmy walked away from him before he could finish, away outside where Mr Barrow was leaning up against a wall, smoking.

"Mr Barrow?" Jimmy called over to him, towing Alfred along behind him, who made a point of dragging his heels.

"What is it this time?" The under butler leaned his hand back in exasperation, "Do you want to touch me hair? A hug from Mr Barrow? To recite the rest of that poem? Or have you come to talk about boobs and urinate against the wall?" Pushing himself from the bricks just in case of the latter option.

"No, we just wanted to thank you for last night, and the night before I suppose and for not mentioning it. You've been kind."

"I thought I were evil a while ago."

"Only in appearance."

"I see."

"But I think if I gave you a new hairstyle you might look less villainous." Jimmy said spiritedly.

"Maybe I like looking villainous." The under butler put the cigarette to his lips as though it emphasized his villainy.

"Why? When you could look like me?" The footman posed, tossing his golden hair back vainly, adjusting his cuffs and raising his eyebrows.

"I think the world would end as we know it."

"So no then?"

"Yes, it's a no." Mr Barrow noticed the ginger footman looking sombre and silent, staring down at the ground, the under butler discarded his cigarette and stretched out his arms. "Alfred… do you need a hug from Mr Barrow?" He teased.

"No, and stop talking in the third person like that."

"How else can I make you feel like a three year old?" The older man dropped his hands to his sides.

"Go on Alfred, tell him." Jimmy urged.

"I don't know what to say-"

"It's all right Alfred, I think I know." Mr Barrow raised his hand.

"You do?" _If I don't know, how does he?_

"Well it's not like I haven't noticed your behaviour towards me the last week, the punches threw me a bit but I know they weren't on purpose. Especially after calling me a beast and writing that poem about me legs, well-"

"I were only being friendly!"

"Right, because you value me friendship that much-" The under butler doubted.

Alfred took a couple of steps forward, close enough to the older man to touch him, and looked him straight in the eyes. "Now look Mr Barrow, let's get this clear once and for all. I do not fancy you, I don't want you in me pants, I don't want you anywhere near me pants; I just think you're very attractive and sensitive while still being an embodiment of man with your seductive evil knees!"

Mr Barrow looked at Jimmy to see if he could make any sense of what Alfred was saying, a shrug and bemused expression told him 'no'. "I see. That's cleared things right up." He said sarcastically, "So what is it you wanted to say?"

"Er-"

Any attempt at a response was interrupted by Mr Carson's voice calling outside who was searching for his missing staff. "James?!"

_Oh god, he can't see me!_ Alfred grabbed the first thing he could think of to use as a shield and pressed himself between it and the wall. It was only when he saw that the thing he grabbed was Mr Barrow that he panicked further, especially as the under butler opened his mouth to yell at the footman. He had to be silenced. Alfred's hands were occupied with holding the wriggling under butler to him so had to make do with the next best thing, and planted a whopping great kiss on his lips. Mr Barrow, unable to move from the shock of this unexpected assault from the footman, could only flail his arms wildly in shock. Alfred's lips still pressed firmly against his own, stifling his screams.

Jimmy meanwhile had to deal with Mr Carson, trying to restrain his emotion which was begging for him to join Mr Barrow in screaming, but in laughter. "Yes Mr Carson?"

"Have you seen Alfred and Mr Barrow?"

"Well, uh," He looked at the pair writhing against the wall awkwardly, "They're busy right now Mr Carson but I'll send them in when they're done."

"I expect them in one minute."

"They'll be there Mr Carson." Jimmy nodded reassuringly, trying to obscure the under butler's arm, waving from around the corner of the wall.

As the butler retreated indoors Alfred released the wide eyed Mr Barrow from his grip and straightened himself out. "Yes, uh, thank you Mr Barrow, it were very good of you." _I'm going to be sick._

"I hate to break up this most romantic moment, but we best go in." Jimmy interjected.

"Uh huh." Mr Barrow whimpered as he swayed back and forth, and the three men walked very slowly indoors.

"Can we talk about boobs and urinate later?" Alfred whimpered.

To which Jimmy replied, "Of course we can Alfred, of course we can."

* * *

Mr Barrow was still in a state of shock later that day, and Alfred wasn't faring much better. At dinner the footman even fled from the room in tears at what he had done. His hiding from Mr Carson helped also to hide his tears, except when he was found later that day in a cupboard by the butler in an effort to conceal himself from him, giving an excuse that he had gas and didn't want to inflict it upon the downstairs servants. When Mr Carson asked why he was crying though, Alfred replied, 'It's this poem about Mr Barrow's legs, it's just moved me deeply'. Meanwhile Jimmy had tried to comfort Mr Barrow, who was clearly suffering from shock, and took advantage of his absentmindedness as the youth subtly tried to rearrange the under butler's hair, but his hand was incessantly batted away. The night was drawing in and despite the trauma of that day Jimmy was still determined that he would have the last laugh.

"What do you mean you haven't done it? We'll be going up to bed soon. It seems eternal manhood is in me grasp." Alfred beamed with pride at his imminent victory now they were alone in the servant's hall, just waiting for everyone to retire for the night.

"You kissed Mr Barrow; I think you'll need it more than I will."

"I panicked." Alfred was close to bursting into tears again. _I wish me auntie were here. I can't even ask Mr Barrow for one of his 'Mr Barrow hugs'. _

"I love it when you panic." Jimmy chuckled.

"I think he knows what's going on."

"I don't think so, he'd say something." _If it would stop Alfred kissing him I think he'd say something._

"Unless he's letting us do it so he can use it against us."

"If he is it's not doing that much harm. At least not as much as you seem to have done him."

"What about _my_ harm? I bloody kissed him!"

"No one made you. Though isn't it ironic that you changed the rules so you wouldn't have to do anything with Mr Barrow and I said if not I'd make you kiss him, but you still did it anyway?"

"Yes I know." Alfred clutched his head in shame, but Jimmy only found it a provocation to tease him.

"Maybe you _do_ have feelings for him, deep inside. You certainly seemed to be enjoying that kiss, didn't think you'd ever let him go. Thought I saw your leg go up and all."

"Shut up. It did not. I just don't know what to do in certain situations."

"So you just kiss people. Let me know about these situations will you? Make a list and I'll be sure to avoid them with you."

"Very funny."

"Oh it really is." Jimmy told him.

"Go on then. There he is, your last chance, unless you forfeit." Alfred pointed out the dark haired under butler strutting around the kitchen pretending he wasn't mentally scarred, as usual.

"I don't think so." Jimmy said with determination.

"Go on then, and don't worry, I'll be right there behind you watching."

"Yeah, watching Mr Barrow, and his legs." Jimmy jested.

"Hurry up." Alfred pushed him.

Jimmy looked around, how can he style Mr Barrow's hair? He had no brush; there was no time. "All right, I have it."

Jimmy seized the cutlery, not caring that it was protruding from a hall boy's mouth, and charged straight for the unsuspecting butler before jumping on him and sending them both into a pile on the floor. _Wow didn't think he'd go down so easily!_ Mr Barrow was too busy screaming in pain to force Jimmy off him aggressively, "Oh my god! What is wrong with you?"

"Just stay still Mr Barrow, and it will all be over soon!" Jimmy grabbed the under butler's head in a lock and forced the silverware through it. _That's it, just come free from his head. How much pomade does he bloody use? _

"What are you doing to me? Dear god!" Mr Barrow cried.

Suddenly all froze as Ivy squealed from behind the counter, "Mr Carson's coming." Jimmy released the under butler's head, and with it the silverware, as the pair on the floor made to stand up, but Alfred did the opposite and collapsed, grabbing the under butler to use him as a shield, pulling him back down to the floor so their bodies became entangled, but Mr Barrow was still holding onto Jimmy who fell forward onto the under butler's chest. The three men now in a mass on the kitchen floor, Mr Barrow being sandwiched between the footmen just as Mr Carson walked in.

"What on earth is going on in here?!"

"Mr Carson," The under butler began, none of the three men daring to move due to the precarious positions they were in, especially as Jimmy's knee was in a particularly sensitive position for Mr Barrow, "I know what this looks like but-"

"And what might that be?"

"I want you to know, that I do not host male orgies in the kitchen."

Jimmy giggled girlishly into Mr Barrow's chest.

"I should hope not! Not with the maid present!" Mr Carson protested, gesturing to Ivy.

Thomas and Jimmy looked at each other in confusion at Mr Carson' objection being to the proper conduct of a male orgy, not the fact it could be taking place at all, "Sorry Mr Carson, when I plan a kitchen orgy I'll make sure all the maids have gone to bed." Mr Barrow continued.

"Don't get clever with me Mr Barrow, now just what is going on here?"

The men had been lying on the floor now for a while and none seemed to be able to bring themselves to get up, except for Alfred who was wheezing underneath the weight of the two men on top of him. Jimmy wanted to tell him to shut up because the sound he was emitting was a turn off and spoiling the moment for him. Not that lying on the kitchen floor in front of a butler and a maid, while lying on top of two men, one who had a fork stuck in their hair, the other being Alfred, was much of a moment to spoil.

"Well Mr Carson I were showing James and Alfred a trick with the silver, and the fork got stuck in me hair, and James were trying to get it out you see but we fell over into Alfred." Mr Barrow explained.

"Alfred? I didn't see you there." The butler thought it was unusual for there to be six legs between two men, until he looked beyond Mr Barrow and saw the second footman's head sticking out from the tangle of limbs.

"Good evening Mr Carson." He wheezed, as the under butler and Jimmy leaned their faces into each other's necks to conceal their laughter from Mr Carson.

"Get up this instant, and get off to bed all of you. I've never seen such a display."

"It will never happen again Mr Carson. Eek!" Mr Barrow said for the pile, squealing as Jimmy moved his knee just a little too high as he stood up. He doubled over to adjust himself to the pain but looking up he saw a shining silver implement dangling from his hair, and he pursed his lips in irritation.

"And I hope that fork is gone from your hair in the morning Mr Barrow." The butler felt he needed to add, for some reason thinking Mr Barrow might have kept it there.

"It will be Mr Carson." Mr Barrow assured him before the butler took his leave now all was right with the world again.

"This seems very familiar doesn't it James?" The under butler straightened up slowly, as the fork swung before his eyes.

"Yes Mr Barrow, I'm sorry. Here." The youth tried to untangle the fork from the under butler's hair. _At last! At last! I have you! Wow, he does have nice hair._

"Ow. Ow." Mr Barrow cried quietly as Jimmy had to jerk the cutlery to prise it free.

_Aww my poor baby. Eh?_ "I'm sorry. I'm trying to be gentle. There. Hey, your hair's real!" The blonde announced in surprise as he straightened out the under butler's hair.

"Glad you finally realise! Maybe you can stop going on about it now!"

Jimmy kept his mouth clamped shut, until he finished adjusting the hair which the under butler trusted him to fix in his time of need. Then suddenly Jimmy's face illuminated, he clutched his cheeks, and could have sworn he raised a leg, and exclaimed, "Oh my god you look beautiful!"

"What? Why?" The under butler suddenly looked panicked, he picked up a silver tray that was lying on the side, and looked in its silvery surface, "Oh my god, oh my god, what have you done?" He demanded to know as he saw in his reflection a long strand of hair hung over his forehead, which had been curled into a wave.

"It's a Jimmy-wave." The artist said proudly, touching his own Jimmy wave to show what he had done.

"Dear god! No, no! Why? Why would you do this?! Haven't I suffered enough?!" Tears filled the under butler's eyes as he dropped his head onto the counter.

"Mr Barrow?" Jimmy tapped him on the shoulder, but he would not stir, "Thomas?"

"I think he's in shock." Alfred whispered.

"Not surprised after the day he's had."

"We'd best get him up to bed." The taller footman came to take Mr Barrow's arm, indicating for Jimmy to take the other.

"Thought you might want to, you dirty devil." Jimmy joked.

"I'm not the one who jumped on him." Alfred argued.

"I'm not the one who used him as a body shield, and kissed him! By the way, why didn't you just hide behind the counter?"

"I panicked."


	10. Chapter 10

**First off I want to apologise if, like mcabbey80, after reading this you now cannot look at Rob-James Collier without imagining his hair is a wig.**

**I've thought of one more chapter of dares! :O Oh my. I don't know how this happened. In these new stereotypes I've hopefully developed now in these characters I've managed it. Just. I hope. But I must stop! It's a disease! But I must confess this is probably the maddest chapter yet. I didn't intend it, but it just happened when I was writing. Thought I'd go for it as after all, the rest has been mad.**

**Thank you all so much, without you I would have packed up my pencil and little notebook a long time ago. :D Like every chapter, this is for you.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

"Jimmy, I've realised something." Alfred stated as he came downstairs the next morning and sidled up next to the young blonde.

"What's that Alfred?"

Alfred hesitated and took deep breaths as Jimmy managed to take various glances at the clock in the time that passed. "I'm a man kisser! A sleep stalker! I'm Mr Barrow!" Alfred finally wailed.

"Well… yeah." Jimmy said simply. _Just nowhere near as good looking, or smart, or cunning, or-_

"What? No! You're supposed to say 'No Alfred, you are not like Mr Barrow, you may have hidden under his bed and kissed him but you are neither a man kisser or a sleep stalker'."

"Oh sorry, didn't realise you wanted me to lie to you. Ask me again." _What's wrong with being like Mr Barrow? I find his man kissing and sleep stalking endearing. Or something like that. When it's less creepy._

"I don't want you to lie, just to be nice."

"Oh I see. Sorry. I didn't think lying were nice."

"Oh never mind. I have your dare." Alfred gave up, knowing he wouldn't get Jimmy to say what he needed to hear.

"Go on, give it to me, I'm ready."

"You know Mr Tufton's been hanging around lately? All over Mrs Patmore like?"

"Yeees?" Jimmy recalled the local supplier who had met Mrs Patmore and flirted with her in the kitchen, and when Jimmy, Alfred, and Mr Barrow went to Thirsk he slipped a note to Mr Barrow to give to her, with the purpose of inviting her to the fair with him, and was returning to Downton later that day for a reply (and a piece of pie no doubt).

"You have to fight him for Mrs Patmore."

"What?! As in actually fight him, fisticuffs?"

"No, well maybe if it comes to it. But you have to vie with him for Mrs Patmore's love."

"Really? Do I have to? Can't I just write a poem about Mr Barrow's legs?" _It'll be easier, and more believable._

"No! That's _my_ thing." Alfred loomed over Jimmy defensively.

"All right, sorry. Have you given him your poem yet?" Jimmy grinned, his acceptance of the dare implied in not making a refusal to do it.

"No. I haven't."

"I think you should." Jimmy suggested selfishly, "Did you finish it?"

"Ha! Did I finish it? ... Yes. I can't leave things unfinished."

"Please, oh please give it to him." Jimmy jumped on his tip toes in excitement.

"Nope." Alfred stubbornly refused.

"But you've written it!" Jimmy complained, "Oh, give it to me and I'll give it to him. Pleeeease."

"All right, if you say it's from you."

_Yeah right like he'd believe that after yesterday_. "Fine." Alfred handed him the note, which for some reason he kept in his pocket. "Ha! You wrote it down!"

"Of course I did. By the way I want to change the rules back."

"Really? Why?"

"Because before I didn't kiss Mr Barrow or punch him in the face! So I'll just make do with no limits. I don't care. I'm convinced, if I can kiss Mr Barrow I can do anything."

"Except kiss Ivy." Jimmy reminded him.

"Not that again, please, just, I can't." Alfred rubbed his forehead, seeming to be genuinely put out by Jimmy's persistence, "Press it and I'll just go on about yours and Mr Barrow's unfinished business, so leave it."

"Fine. I have to think of a dare for you then."

"What is it? I don't care anymore just tell me. What do I have to do to Mr Barrow?" Alfred resigned himself to his fate.

"Don't know yet, but I think you'll cause enough trouble on your own without my help."

Their talk stopped as Mr Barrow came down the stairs."James, I'm not even going to bother asking what that were last night. So just don't tell me, in fact I'd appreciate it if you just stayed away, please. For me health."

"Yes Mr Barrow. Sorry Mr Barrow." Jimmy dropped his head ashamedly at having attacked the under butler with a fork the night before. He noticed that the 'Jimmy- wave' he had given the under butler though was gone. _Ah well, he still looks beautiful, in his own way._

"So Alfred, have you finished that poem?" The under butler turned his attention to the taller footman.

"No Mr Barrow, but Jimmy wrote you one."

"Did you James?" The under butler seemed torn between feeling flattered and suspicious.

_You little- _"Yes Mr Barrow I did. Well it were a collaboration of me and Alfred."

"How… strange." His eyes flitted between the footmen who were fidgeting nervously, "Can I hear it?"

"Right now?"

"Yes. Why not?"

Jimmy looked at Alfred before taking the note from his pocket and unrolling it. _This better be better than what he came up with yesterday_. "All right. Ahem... Dark hair, on soft pale skin, stirs a feeling from deep within... So strong and so tall, they have to be the most beautiful legs of all... I imagine them in the rain all shiny and wet, it does something to me I'll never forget... I long for just one touch; I only hope it won't be too much... Your knees are so evil yet fine, like the effects of a rare wine... When I see them from under your bed, their manliness goes straight to me head."

The three were silent as Jimmy had to refrain from laughing, crying and punching Alfred in the face all at once. "Wow. That were… that were something. I can't say what, but that were really something. Thank you lads." Mr Barrow said as he looked around in embarrassment for the pair.

"You're welcome Mr Barrow." The footmen whispered.

"Can I ask why you have a sudden obsession about me legs?"

"We're jealous." _Jealous?_ "Me legs are skinny, Jimmy's are short, yours are just right." Alfred interjected.

"I see, and poetry is the way to express that? Not just by keeping it to yourselves?" Mr Barrow said.

"You bring it out of us Mr Barrow."

"Me legs bring it out of you?"

"Yes. We're starting a club." Alfred said with a strange amount of pride. Strange being more than nothing in this case.

"We're starting a club?" Jimmy glared at the older footman.

"I'm panicking." Alfred mouthed at the blonde.

"You're starting a club dedicated to me legs?" Mr Barrow continued to repeat out of sheer bewilderment.

"The Under Barrow, I mean Mr Butler, Leg Appreciation Society." Alfred elaborated.

_Wow that mistake is quite contagious. _" Make your mind up Alfred." Jimmy nudged him.

"I see." The so called 'Under Barrow' scratched his head.

Luckily Mr Carson came in before he had to respond to Alfred's declaration. "Ah Mr Barrow, I'm pleased to see the fork is out of your hair." The butler remarked.

"Yes Mr Carson."

"And I trust there will be no shenanigans in the kitchen later on?"

"Not a male orgy in sight Mr Carson." Mr Barrow reassured him.

"Good. Carry on Mr Barrow."

The under butler spared the blushing footmen a glance before following Mr Carson away, doing his typical glide which Jimmy could not help but watch him conduct.

"The Under Barrow, Mr Butler Leg Appreciation Society?" The blonde growled at Alfred through clenched teeth when Mr Barrow was out of sight.

"Can me dare be to jump off a bridge?" Alfred stared wide eyed at the wall, traumatised by his humiliation.

"No, but it can be to get someone to _join_ the Under Barrow Leg Appreciation Society." Jimmy smiled in his epiphany.

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know, but I can't wait to see it." Jimmy cackled, but was stopped abruptly by an unusual visitor striding past him to go into the servants' hall, "Is that Mr Branson? What's he doing down here? Oh my gosh, I have it, Alfred get Mr Branson to join."

"You what?"

"You have to convince him to join the society, do it." Jimmy was so excited his pulled at Alfred's sleeves.

"I thought we were keeping it downstairs!"

"It is. He's downstairs, you're downstairs. Come on. I dare you!"

"This is mad. What do I say?"

"Just ask him. Go on, he's coming, quick."

_I kissed Mr Barrow, I can do this._ Alfred cricked his neck before approaching Mr Branson who was coming out from the servants' hall, looking more jovial than when he entered. "Mr Branson, may I have a word?"

"Certainly. What about?" The young Irishman gave Alfred his attention.

"Well- er- I were wondering... if you might be interested in joining.. the er- the Under Barrow Leg Appreciation Society." Alfred mumbled.

"The what?" Mr Branson leaned in to better catch what the footman was saying, not believing the words 'Under', 'Barrow', 'Leg', and 'Appreciation Society' could ever be used in the same sentence.

"Mr Barrow has been a source of inspiration to us all, and it's come straight from his legs." Alfred explained.

"His legs?" Mr Branson blinked.

"Yes."

"His legs inspire you?"

"They carry the rest of him so well. I mean he doesn't use any glue to keep his wig on."

"Mr Barrow wears a wig?"

"He's very sensitive about it, that's why his legs are so important."

"I never would have guessed. Sybil always said he had lovely hair. So you're having a union over his legs?" Mr Branson folded his arms, mouth agape in wonder at the young servant before him.

"Yes. We get together and talk about Mr Barrow and his legs."

"I'm not sure what there is to say about him really, and his legs." Mr Branson wondered.

"There will be updates."

"How can you have updates on his legs?"

"Mr Barrow has... agreed to measure the hairs on his legs for weekly discussion." _What?!_

"What?"

"He-er- uses special stuff. It's quite something. Makes his hairs extra manly." _Why do I say these things? I don't even know where they come from?_

Mr Branson nodded thoughtfully before saying, "All right then, sign me up."

"You what?" Alfred asked in disbelief.

"I'll join. I've got to have something to do while the family are away." Mr Branson shrugged convincingly.

_Oh my god, this can't be happening. Have to put him off. _"Well-er- you need to prepare a poem about Mr Barrow. Part of the initiation like."

"Right. Fair enough."

_What?_ "Also you need to prove your dedication to Mr Barrow, by er- kissing him."

"I have to kiss him?"

"Yes." _He'll never do it._

"All right."

_What? No!_ "And you er- have to shave your legs."

"Will you two be doing this as well?"

Jimmy was refusing to contribute to this discussion for the sake of whatever pride remained to him, leaving Alfred to reply. "We've written a poem and we've both kissed him." _Ha, that told him!_

"You've kissed him?"

_Oh god why did I say that?_ "Er- no."

"Oh, well then I guess that's on all our to-do lists then, and shaving our legs."

_Why did I say no? _"Yes, I guess it is."

"I'll see you two later then. Legs shaved and ready to kiss the er- Under Barrow is it?"

"Yes. That's our secret codename for him." Alfred continued.

"See you later then." Mr Branson laughed as he walked away from the pair.

As soon as Irishman passed out of hearing Jimmy turned on Alfred. "Good work on the codename; it's an enigma. No one will be able to figure that out!" He cried sarcastically, "Alfred, why did you say we have to shave our legs and kiss Mr Barrow?" He grabbed the taller footman by the lapels.

"I… don't… know!"

* * *

Later that day Mr Branson's reason for his earlier visit was revealed as it seemed he asked for permission to come and dine with the servants that night. When dinner had concluded Mr Branson kept the footmen behind with him at the table.

"So lads, you ready for our meeting later?" Mr Branson made a point of rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Depends, have you completed your tasks?" Alfred turned his nose up.

"Not yet. Have you?" Mr Branson and Jimmy chuckled, but at Alfred's silence the smiles quickly faded, "Have you?"

"I shaved." Alfred said meekly.

"You shaved?!" Jimmy and Tom exclaimed.

"I thought we had to! I were confused." Last part for Jimmy's ears alone.

"You haven't kissed him yet have you? Because I'd like to see that." Tom insisted.

"No."

"Good. So let's see your legs then." Tom said.

"What?"

"Let's see. Come on."

With that Alfred stood up, placed one foot on the chair and rolled up his trouser leg to reveal the pale hairless skin of a skinny lower leg.

"Wow, shiny." Was Jimmy's input at Alfred's effort.

"You cut yourself up pretty nice." Tom pointed at the numerous bloodied cuts which plastered Alfred's skin.

"It's hard, all right? Don't know how girls do it."

"What did you use? A butter knife?" Tom asked him in jest at his botched up job.

"No I did not." Alfred rolled down his trouser leg and sat back down.

"Maybe you should use that stuff the er- Under Barrow uses. Eh?"

"What stuff?"

"The stuff you said he puts on his legs." The Irishman recalled. The under butler at that point came into the room with a cup of tea and Tom had no qualms in putting the question to the man himself. "Mr Barrow?"

"Yes Mr Branson."

"Do you know about this Appreciation Society for you Alfred's starting?"

"Unfortunately yes." Mr Barrow said coolly, taking a sip of his tea, as the footmen buried their heads in their hands.

"They said you were going to measure your leg hairs for discussion."

"They what?" The under butler spat the hot liquid out all over the table in shock, before casting evil glances at the troublesome youngsters who just gave him pitiful looks, "Just ignore them Mr Branson. They are children."

"I'm glad you said that, I was beginning to worry, but can I ask what you use on your legs for extra manliness?"

"Did Alfred tell you that too?" Mr Barrow cocked his head in annoyance at the ginger footman.

"Yes. You see he's shaved his legs out of respect for you and wants to put that stuff you use on them." The Irishman gave the under butler a wink, which the footmen did not see, no more than the wink Mr Barrow gave Mr Branson return.

"Shaved his legs did he? Wow. Hmm. The thing is Mr Branson… I use…lemon. I dissolve salt in lemon juice and rub it in once a day. It does the job."

"There you are then Alfred. Go and get some Jimmy." Mr Branson told Jimmy, who eagerly made to stand at the prospect of Alfred's reaction at having salt and lemon rubbed into his cuts, but Alfred yanked him back down.

"No, no! I don't think that's right Mr Barrow!" Alfred cried desperately for the sake of his poor legs.

"Thought you wanted legs like mine?" Mr Barrow replied casually.

"I did! But no! Please! Don't! Noooo!" Alfred whimpered as Jimmy ran off into the kitchen to ask Mrs Patmore for the ingredients for the Under Barrow's magic man hair recipe.

* * *

"No James you are not having me lemons and salt to rub into Alfred's legs!" The cook could be heard to cry a minute or so later from the kitchen, just as her evening visitor arrived who had come begging for his answer to earlier his invitation to take Mrs Patmore to the local fair.

"Evenin' Mrs Patmore." Mr Tufton waddled in and leaned on the counter, his eyes drawn to a pie dish on the side with left over apple pie still in it.

"Hello Mr Tufton." Mrs Patmore greeted him, tucking stray hairs behind her ears neatly.

"What have you got for me today then?"

"There's some pie left over if you want a piece of that." The cook offered.

"Oh, don't mind if I do thank you." He scooped the pie from the dish with his fingers and swallowed it down. "Oh, that right there is divine Mrs Patmore. I were wondering if you had time to think about me invitation to the fair?"

"What's going on?" Jimmy feeling now was the appropriate time to interrupt the proceedings.

"James, you know Mr Tufton." The cook said.

"Yes. I don't like him hanging around the kitchen."

"You footmen are catching something from our Mr Barrow."

_I wouldn't mind that. Our Mr Barrow. My Mr Barrow. Not that he's mine. I don't own him. No one owns the Under Barrow. _"I don't like strangers hanging around you Mrs Patmore, you're such a delicate flower."

"Thank you James, but I can fight me own battles."

"This young man a suitor Mrs Patmore?" Mr Tufton scoffed at the specimen beside him.

"Never mind him Mr Tufton, he's only young."

"That's what worries me. Though with a lovely lady like you they must be lining up for you."

"Yeah right!" Jimmy's thoughts slipped from his mouth, "I mean uh, Mrs Patmore is a gem. Too good for you anyhow. She needs a man to treat her proper. Like me." He winked charmingly at the flustered cook. "What are your intentions to Mrs Patmore?" He directed back at the supplier.

"I don't need to tell you that." Mr Tufton replied, straightening up to face the footman.

"Yes you do, if you know what's good for you."

"What might _your_ intentions be?"

"I- uh- I love her," _Why do I keep attesting to this?_ "And I won't see her hurt by a man like you."

"A man like me?"

"Yes. You're bald, fat, and common. I on the other hand am in me prime. _I_ have hair." Jimmy framed his signature wave delicately with his hands.

"I think Mrs Patmore is interested in seeing real men, with maturity and independence, not a rude, arrogant child." Mr Tufton puffed out his chest.

"I am not a child. You're just jealous because you're old enough to be me granddad and I'm better looking than you."

"Don't push me boy." Mr Tufton poked his grubby finger into Jimmy's livery. The blonde wiping pie crumbs from his waistcoat.

"What are you going to do about it?" Jimmy challenged.

"I'll show you if you don't back off."

"Not until you leave my woman alone."

"Your woman?"

"I wasn't aware I belonged to anyone James." Mrs Patmore cried in objection to being anybody's woman, especially to a boy half her age.

"I'm defending your honour Mrs Patmore."

"I think I can defend me own honour James."

"Not against this mug." Jimmy turned his lip up at the supplier.

"I won't be spoken to like that by a prissy little boy with stupid hair." Mr Tufton barked.

_Stupid?!_ "That's it!" Jimmy launched himself into Mr Tufton who refused to go down owing to his size, so the pair wrestled severely, one armed with vitality, the other with weight; it was a great struggle between the two. The supplier grabbed Jimmy's hair and the young man wailed, tears pouring down his cheeks, "Not me wave! Please, spare the wave!" Before jabbing Mr Tufton in the stomach and sweeping some flour from the kitchen surface into his face. The air was dusted with the white substance, obscuring the larger man's view, who decided he had had enough and swung his right fist through the air, as he felt jabs into his sides from prodding fingers, hoping it would meet its mark and send the boy to the ground, but his fists hit nothing. Seeing the fight develop into a fist fight, Alfred made his entry.

"Don't worry Jimmy, the ginger sinker's here!" The ginger footman dove into the fray, flour still hung in the air as Jimmy kept sending it up from the counter to serve as a distraction so he might be able to get away from the older man who was now chasing him around the kitchen. The three men were in a clinch, no one could see what was happening until a fist emerged and struck none other than Mr Barrow in the face just as he lunged in to divide the group apart. The flour cloud cleared and the men ran from it as the under butler lay sprawled out once again on the kitchen floor.

"Mr Barrow?! Are your legs all right?" Alfred cried in concern as the other servants and Mr Branson came to see what the cause of the ruckus was.

"Me legs are fine." Mr Barrow shirked the footman and grabbed the outstretched hand of Mr Tufton who helped him up, "Who punched me? Alfred?!" Mr Barrow span around, in fury at being struck three times now, trying to finger someone for the assault, the ginger being the first and most obvious choice.

"I'm sorry young man I think it was me." Mr Tufton confessed, Mr Barrow was as shocked that it wasn't Alfred just as much as he was at being called a 'young man', "I quite lost meself, I didn't hurt you did I?"

"I'm quite all right, thank you. No worse than anything else I've suffered the past couple of days!" He glared at the footmen who continued to look exceedingly guilty, "Now can someone tell me just what is going on?! Now!" The under butler bellowed deeply with such strict undertones it had a particular effect on one person especially.

_I've never been more attracted to you. _"I were defending Mrs Patmore's honour Mr Barrow and things got out of hand." Jimmy said.

"Obviously. Well that's enough. Shake hands and then Mr Tufton will conclude his business, while you James can go to your room to calm down." Mr Barrow rubbed his face where he had been struck.

"Yes Mr Barrow, sorry Mr Barrow." Jimmy held out his hand which was taken by Mr Tufton to shake, the latter being declared victor for the right to squire Mrs Patmore at the fair the next day.

Before Jimmy could go upstairs he caught Mr Branson's eye; the Irishman was grinning and inclining his head suggestively. The footmen, from this, looked at each other in dismay, and with a reciprocated shrug they waltzed up with Mr Branson to Mr Barrow, who was brushing himself off, and the three men each took a side of the under butler and in silent union all gave the downtrodden under butler a big fat kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

**I want to thank you for reading. This is the penultimate chapter for this story (I'm afraid my brain failed to come up with more major dares and I think my developed stereotypes have run their course) but there are a couple of minor dares in here anyway which you will see are relevant to the plot and to ease us down into the end. **

**This is an adapted scene from S3CS.**

**Apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes**

* * *

The next day saw all past misdemeanours set aside as the servants made their way over to the fair at Thirsk for a day of leisure. Jimmy and Alfred were walking at the back of the pack, reflecting on their good fortune that their outlandish behaviour had been so far tolerated.

"Yesterday were mad." Jimmy said.

"This whole week has been mad! More than a week actually." Alfred realised that they had been playing their game for ten days now.

"We're lucky Mr Carson let us come today."

"I didn't think he would, or even that Mr Barrow would."

"I'm sure getting kissed by three men saw him in a good mood." _Put me in a good mood anyway after getting attacked by Mr Tufton. Not that kissing men puts me in a good mood. Just Mr Barrow. I mean- oh I don't know. _"Stop staring at her." Jimmy said to interrupt his own thoughts as he saw Alfred gaping at Ivy.

"I can't help it." Alfred gave Jimmy a helpless expression, "Anyway what about you and Mr Barrow?"

"What?"

"Have you talked to him?"

"There's nothing with me and Mr Barrow."

"He's keeps looking at you."

"Not surprised; I jumped on him with a fork, hugged him while he were lying on the ground, twice, I said he were like the night, oh and I kissed him last night." Jimmy recalled.

"You kissed him?" Alfred grimaced, like he had amnesia and completely forgot that he had kissed the under butler twice now. Unless his mind chose to block it out through trauma.

"Yes! So did you! You were there!"

"Oh yeah." Alfred hung his head as it all came flooding back to him, "You seemed to enjoy that kiss though, and saying he were like the night; right poetic that were. Didn't think you were a romantic." Alfred goaded.

"Not as romantic as that poem for his legs. Can't believe I had to read that out."

"Maybe you could help me with Ivy, tell me what I could say to her." Alfred asked in desperation.

"You're the beast, why don't you figure it out?"

"Come on." Alfred pleaded with the charmer.

Jimmy sighed, prepared not to let the taller footman embarrass himself too much, "First tip, don't write her any poetry. Apart from that I don't know. I just play hard to get, tease a little. I don't really know, but it seems to work."

"What about with Mr Barrow?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you got Mr Barrow to like you."

"I didn't intend that."

"What did you do though?"

"Nothing. I were just meself." _Jimmy shrugged._

"Were you not yourself with Ivy?"

"I never thought about it. I guess not."

"So Mr Barrow just likes you, for being you?"

"I suppose he did." _Awww._

"Does. I see the way he looks at you."

Jimmy's eyes lit up. "Do you?" _Awww. When did I become such a girl?_

"Yes. It's the way I look at her." Alfred looked at Ivy, presumably in the way he claimed Mr Barrow looked at Jimmy, it was a look of longing, need, and sadness. Jimmy's heart could not help but sigh _'awww'_ as he looked over to the under butler. "I don't understand him, men like him." Alfred's voice cut off Jimmy's heart, "Though I suppose he's not a real man is he? He keeps avoiding me. It's very awkward."

"I'm not surprised! I'd avoid you if you kissed me. Twice! And punched me in the face. Twice! And started an Appreciation Society for me legs. Didn't think you'd mind him giving you some distance anyhow."

"I don't , I just don't like him thinking about me like that."

"I'm sure he doesn't." Suddenly Jimmy's eye caught something and he charged straight for it, a sign post announcing a tug of war contest, the words which caught Jimmy's attention though were 'cash prizes' and was quick to round up a team to take on the challenge, "Ah, here's something for us. Alfred, Mr Branson. Let's give it a go."

"I don't mind." Tom said, agreeable as always.

"What about you?" Alfred looked at Mr Barrow.

"Isn't it a bit rough for Mr Barrow?" Jimmy asked rhetorically. _He's so fragile_, _and I wouldn't want him to ruin those delicate fingers which should be coursing their way through me hair. _

"Oh I think I could manage." The under butler wound his way around the footmen to submit the Downton team's candidacy for the competition which would soon take place.

Jimmy was elated. The Downton team won the tug of war, with the help of Mr Tufton who Jimmy sneakily roped in (using his love for Mrs Patmore as bait) after getting better than good odds on a bet which saw his pockets filled when their competitors fell to the floor. Not to mention Jimmy got to see Thomas undress. Well… take his jacket off and roll up his sleeves, but it was enough for the blonde footman, whose eyes saw the act happening in slow motion.

"How much did you win?" Alfred asked Jimmy after the contest was over.

"Ten bob."

"Nice."

"They don't look happy do they?" Jimmy gestured to the defeated group of men who gave him dirty looks at the trick he played on them.

"Not at all. I dare you to go and rub their noses in it." Alfred put to the blonde.

"That's just asking for it that is."

"You're in a fair full of people, what are they gonna do? Follow you home? Ambush you under a lonely bridge? Go on, I dared you." Alfred nudged him.

"Oh god you did." _I think I'd rather kiss Mr Barrow again_. "All right, I'll need a couple of drinks first. Then I'll think up yours."

The pair made their way over to the stall which served them with pints of beer. Alfred was concerned that Jimmy was drinking too much, completely unlike him, but he could not stop him, that was until the footman had enough that he could no longer walk straight.

"All right Jimmy? I think you've had enough to steel your nerves. Go on." Alfred gave him a push in the direction of the defeated men.

"Can't we go and find the others and just have a laugh? Go on, we could dance!" Jimmy tried to hug Alfred in his drunken stupor.

"What others?" Alfred shirked the shorter man off.

"Mr Barrow and that." _Who else?_

"I'm not dancing with Mr Barrow. Though dancing doesn't sound too bad an idea." Alfred having had a bit to drink himself had no worries at making a fool out of himself, the lad being no real dancer.

"Where are they anyway?" Jimmy looked around.

"Don't know. Ah, there's Mr Barrow over there talking with Daisy and Ivy." Alfred pointed the small group out.

"Excellent, I get the tall attractive one." Jimmy straightened himself up and puffed out his chest, ready to charm.

"But _I _want to dance with Ivy. Please." Alfred begged him.

"Eh?"

"I assume you meant Ivy."

"Since when is Ivy tall and attractive?"

"Since- who do you mean then?"

_That tall attractive man over there who silently worships me, and has the most beautiful hands I have ever seen… I even dream about them sometimes, doing the nicest things to- Oh lord me mind's wandering again-_ "Oh, there's them men from the tug of war, I think I'm ready to do me dare now." The appearance of the men saved him before he could give his thoughts a voice, Alfred happy not to press Jimmy in favour of watching him fulfil his dare.

"All right, there's only two of them so you'll be fine. Good luck."

Jimmy stumbled over to the two men, and squared them up, ready to rub his victory in their faces, firstly by taking all the money he won out of his pocket and brandishing it before them.

"Oo, what's this? Oh look it's money, lots and lots of money, that I won.. where were it again? Oh yes, off you! 'How?' You might ask. Because I'm smarter, I'm prettier and I'm stronger than you. Ha. Ha. Ha! In your faces. All four of them, and there's nothing you can do, so I'm going to go and spend me winnings if I decide not to come back and rub it in your faces some more, or beat you at something else. Maybe a beauty contest, cor you do have ugly mugs don't you?" Jimmy scrutinised the faces of the silent men who were repulsed by the boy and walked away from him, Jimmy called after them boastfully, "Where you going? Where you-? Oh yes, that's right, walk away. Walk away from Jimmy! Yes! Alfred! I did it!" Jimmy waved at the second footman in joy.

"That weren't too hard were it?"

"No, I guess not. Is that Mr Barrow with Mr Branson?" Jimmy's accomplishment overshadowed by the under butler conversing now with Mr Branson.

Alfred turns and looks where Jimmy is pointing. "What are they doing together?"

"Dunno." _But they better not be doing it for long! _"Let's spy." He giggled.

They instinctively hide behind a stall tent, just out of hearing range, unless the older men spoke particularly loudly, Alfred peered around the corner of the tent and watched while Jimmy hung back and waited for Alfred to tell him what was going on. "They're laughing. I heard them say me name!.. They're looking at Mr Barrow's legs. Laughing again… Mr Barrow looks upset, he's touching his hair… Tom's put his arm on Mr Barrow!"

"What? No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!.. Oh they're laughing again." Alfred saw. _What are they talking about? It must be very funny. They're looking at Mr Barrow's legs a lot. _

_I will not have this. How dare my Thomas have fun without me? 'My' Thomas. No one owns the under Barrow, but I can own Thomas. I've decided._ "Alfred I dare you to go and defend Mr Barrow's honour."

"What?"

"Drive Mr Branson away! Stake your claim on Mr Butler." _Then give him to me._

"You're drunk." Alfred sniffed.

"So? We can't let Mr Branson take Under Barrow away from us." Jimmy clawed desperately at Alfred.

"I wouldn't mind if he did."

"But we love him." Jimmy's eyes widened into strange drunken puppy dog eyes which scared Alfred by their creepiness.

"I think you should go and lie down."

"If you come with me." Jimmy put his head on the taller man's arm. _What's wrong with me?_

"Get off!" Alfred went over to Mr Barrow and Mr Branson, just to get away from the blonde who lagged closely behind. "All right Mr Barrow? Mr Branson?"

"Fine thanks. James are you okay? You look like you're about to topple." Mr Barrow took careful notice.

_Only you would care for me so._ "Only because me legs aren't as manly as yours are Mr Butler." Jimmy hiccupped.

"Thank you?"

"Alfred has something to say to you, don't you Alfred? Eh?" Jimmy slurred.

Alfred took in a sharp breath as he looked down at the cheerily innocent Mr Branson. "Mr Branson, I want you to leave."

"What?" Tom and Mr Barrow were shocked by Alfred's bluntness in speaking to one of the family in this way.

"This here is _my_ under butler, so you just go and find your own, because he's mine,… and er- you're not having him." Alfred linked his arm with Mr Barrow's, the under butler looking like he feared getting punched again, or worse, kissed again.

"I see, and if I refuse?" Tom inquired.

"Then you'll get what's coming." Alfred threatened.

"I don't mind, I think you make a good couple." Tom looked over the alleged couple of Mr Barrow and Alfred.

"Eh?" Alfred's face turned to one of panic.

"Yes, Mr Barrow tells me how much he thinks of you, and I can see why. In fact, is there any reason for me to go?"

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked slowly.

"We're two attractive men, and you Alfred are… renowned now for your manliness." Everyone except Alfred himself creased up at this, though the ginger footman didn't seem to notice.

_AH! _His eyes sparkled as he grinned into the distance_. I'm renowned! For manliness! _"What are you saying?" He resorted back to his sour faced expression, still in confusion at what Mr Branson was implying.

"You know what I mean Alfred. Don't be shy." Alfred's eyes bulged as Tom ran his hand up the footman's arm, "Think I saw an empty tent over there somewhere where we could-"

_OH MY GOD!_ "Mr Branson… I- I do not host male orgies in the kitchen!" Alfred blurted out before stomping away with his hands in his pockets as Mr Branson chided after him.

"That's good to know Alfred."

"James, keep him off the booze," Mr Barrow ordered with regard to Alfred, "though it looks like you should go and lie down." He advised concernedly.

"Only if you come with me." Jimmy gave the under butler those same drunken puppy dog eyes which scared Mr Barrow as much as they did Alfred, but for a different reason.

"I can't come with you James, but you should go back home."

_I love you_. "I'm fine Mr But-row, not everyone can have as steady legs as yours."

"You're drunk James, I know because your 'Jimmy wave' is lopsided, something a sober James would never tolerate. So go home."

_Awww, trust Mr But-row to look out for me hair_. "For you Mr Under Thomas, anything… In fact I might just head off home."

When Jimmy walked home, as promised, he was not alone but was followed by the two men from the tug of war, they took the opportunity to ambush him as he passed under a lonely bridge, but before they could do anything Mr Barrow came along and freed Jimmy from their clutches; telling the footman to run, allowing the men to beat him in the younger man's stead. Jimmy did something he was ashamed of, and ran, leaving Thomas to his fate, watching him get struck in the face and stomach by one man while the other held his arms back so he was defenceless against them. Fortunately Jimmy found Doctor Clarkson at the fair with Mrs Crawley, and telling them what happened and gathering Tom and Alfred to help the under butler, who would no doubt be left in a bad way came to Thomas' assistance and found him, badly beaten and mugged under the bridge where Jimmy left him, luckily the under butler was told he would be fine and just needed rest, but Jimmy felt bad that his and Alfred's dares got the poor Mr Barrow into this. So they decided it was time for them to have a serious talk.

"What are you saying?" Alfred asked Jimmy to repeat the story of what happened one more time.

"Those men followed me home, and ambushed me under a lonely bridge! They were gonna do me in had not Mr Barrow come along."

"What did he do?"

"He got me out, and they attacked him instead." Jimmy rubbed his face in shame and regret.

"And you ran?"

"I'm not proud of meself all right?!" Jimmy exclaimed in bitter reproach for himself.

"So Mr Barrow got beat up because of us?" A wave of guilt passed across his features.

"Because of your stupid dare!" Jimmy cried angrily.

"You didn't have to do it!"

"Of course I did, that's the point isn't it?"

The two men fell silent, both knowing what had to be done and said, not minding Ivy coming into the room.

"I don't think we should do this anymore." Alfred said.

"You think?" Jimmy said obviously.

"Shame, it were fun while it lasted."

"I know, but we'll get caught if we keep doing it, and who knows what damage we could do." _Not much more than what's already happened. Poor Thomas, could he ever forgive me? _

"We're still friends though right?"

"Of course." Jimmy reassured Alfred.

"What's going on in here?" Ivy asked the boys.

"Nothing." They replied innocently.

"What were you talking about?"

"Nothing, nothing at all."

"It seemed like you were…" She looked uneasy about continuing.

"What?"

"If I didn't know any better it looked like you were breaking up." She said sheepishly.

"Oh no, we're still friends."

"I meant from a more romantic enterprise." The girl said even more quietly.

"What?!" The footmen looked at the girl before looking at each other and shuddering before putting more space between them by stepping to the side.

"Well Alfred has been all over Mr Barrow, and you did try and save Jimmy from Mr Tufton, so I were wondering if-"

"No, no! Don't wonder!" Alfred flapped his hands at the girl.

"All right, sorry. My mistake." She went from the room, the footmen not sure if she believed that there was nothing between them.

"Oh my god. She'll never be me girl now. She thinks I'm… like Mr Barrow. That I like Mr Barrow, and you!" Alfred leaned against the wall. _This is all going wrong. It were all supposed to be a bit of fun, not this._

"You know what you could do?" Jimmy said.

"What?"

"It might sound mad, but you could just tell her how you feel."

"No, I couldn't."

"Why? You scared to?" Jimmy mocked him.

"A bit." Alfred sadly confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You're scared of that? After all we've done in the last ten days!" _If he could punch and kiss his superior, come downstairs in his pants, cry in a cupboard in front of Mr Carson, and call Mr Barrow a beast and write a poem to his legs, then surely he could tell Ivy he likes her? Surely?_

"This is different, this is real." Alfred argued.

"I dare you." Jimmy folded his arms and stared resolutely at the taller footman.

"You what?"

"Alfred Nugent I dare you to go and tell Ivy how you feel."

"We stopped playing dares." Alfred shuffled nervously, though Jimmy could see the footman was intrigued and the adrenaline was rebuilding in his system, such was the power of the words 'I dare you'; a power they had fallen under so many times they were practically servile to its call.

"Last one."

"All right then, I dare you to talk to Mr Barrow." _Ha!_

"I dunno what you mean." Jimmy looked away in ignorance.

"Yes you do, I know you want to talk to him about what he did. I told you before that I would want to."

"I can't talk to him. It's different." Jimmy complained.

"Why? Because it's real?" Alfred turned Jimmy's advice back on him, "I dared you. You give up?"

Jimmy chuckled to himself as he knew he could not give up, and for some reason he did not mind, as he knew that either way he needed to see Thomas, he had no choice, he wanted to. "As a man of manly principles I have no choice but to say 'never', but this is the absolute final last time."

"Agreed." The pair shook hands and parted to face their final challenge.


	12. Chapter 12

**Final chapter! I can tell I'm ready to go back to writing serious stuff as I've written this chapter more formally than planned. At least the previous chapter was removed of silliness before this one. **

**Special thanks to those who have taken the time to leave a review for practically every chapter; namely Ellstra, Lylededeast, Ivyjanelily, mcabby80, and lizzy384, thank you also to the rest of the reviewers, as well as those who favourited this story and followed it. I greatly appreciate it. :D**

**Thank you so much for reading.**

**The second half of this chapter is an adapted scene from S3CS**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Before confronting Ivy Alfred went up to his room to straighten himself out to look presentable, just on the off chance his conversation with Ivy should turn out favourably for him. Looking as good as he could possibly get he caught the kitchen maid alone as she was clearing up some cups in the servants' hall.

"Ivy, may I have a word?" Alfred asked her, clasping his hands together nervously.

"Of course. Unless you're going to talk about what a beast Mr Barrow is." Ivy smiled.

"No. No I'm not." Alfred's reply removed of all defensiveness as he gestured to the girl to take a seat beside him at the table, "Ivy I've been feeling something for a long time and I feel that maybe I should just say it."

"I'm listening."

Alfred took a breath and stared at the table, unable to look into those green eyes which made his heart hurt because they looked once too often at Jimmy. He closed his eyes and truth flowed, "I really like you Ivy. At first it were just attraction but I got to know you and spend time with you and, I… I really care about you."

"Oh, Alfred-"

"I know I'm not much to look at and I can be immature, and you probably want nothing to do with me, but I hope that even though I've told you this, that we can be friends." Alfred said before Ivy could speak, rather delivering the likely rejection to himself than to hear it from her lips.

Ivy's mouth twitched into a half smile as she looks at her knees, not sure what to say. Before she could ignore the blatant feelings of the tall footman, but he was now making it impossible for her to, and in a way so different to how he would usually approach her that she was taken aback. "I think we've both been foolish in our own ways. It took me so long to see that Jimmy weren't interested, and I feel I took you for granted when you did have feelings for me. Thank you for being honest, it does mean something to me."

"I'm glad, because it were hard telling you this." Alfred raised his eyes to Ivy who was looking at him with a soft sadness that was hard to read.

"I know, that's probably why it took you so long."

"You mean, you knew?"

"Of course I knew, maybe I should have said something, but I thought I didn't have to as you were making it pretty obvious."

Alfred felt foolish, of course he had been obvious; he was just so used to being ignored by people that he figured that was what he had to do to gain a little attention, especially working beside someone who was more handsome than he was. "Can I ask what it is you see in Jimmy?"

Ivy could not suppress a chuckle in confusion at herself as she thought, then said, "I don't know. I think it's just because he were handsome, and all mysterious and playing hard to get all the time. Silly girlish reasons I suppose. Reasons I should be getting over now."

"I understand." _I think._

"I would like to spend more time with you Alfred," Ivy continued, "I don't feel that way about you, but I do care about you, and I'd hate to see you hurt. Maybe we should just start over."

It wasn't what Alfred was hoping for, but it was something, it was a start, and now he knew where he stood and where Jimmy stood maybe things could be different. "If that's what you want."

"I do, and we'll see what happens. Just don't be so forward this time around; just be yourself. That's the only way I'll ever know if I like you." She told him honestly.

"Thanks Ivy."

"It's all right Alfred." She smiled at him kindly.

_Should I ask her? No harm I suppose. Ask as a friend._ "There's a flick on tomorrow night, would you like to go with me, as a friend of course?"

"Alone?"

_Don't push her._ "We could ask others if you're not comfortable with it."

Ivy took time to think and considered the man before her, as she surveyed his face and the solemn expression he wore and could see clearly his good intention written across it. "All right then. Why not?"

* * *

As this took place Jimmy followed Alfred's method and returned to his room to fix himself up, though he took much longer than Alfred. He spent thirty minutes sorting out his hair, and then ten minutes deciding whether to wear his jacket, and another five minutes on whether he should undo the buttons on his waistcoat. It was all very complicated. He wasn't sure why he fussing that much. He had an idea, but he wasn't sure.

He stepped down the corridor, adjusting his waistcoat. _Maybe I should have worn me jacket. _It was too late now; he had to go and see Thomas. He stopped outside his door and knocked gently before opening it. He looked over to the bed where the under butler lay asleep, his face still bearing the wounds of his ordeal. Jimmy shut the door behind him quietly, not wishing to wake Thomas with a slamming door when he could use his voice. Jimmy sat on the bed which sank beneath him; the older man did not rouse. Jimmy looked at that cut up face and guilt pricked his eyes with tears.

Jimmy noticed just how different Thomas looked here, so at peace unlike the professionalism and coldness he normally emits. This new appearance drew him in. Jimmy knew he should wake Thomas but he did not want to ruin this image of him, with his hair dangling over his forehead which Jimmy wanted to brush back but couldn't bring himself to make contact in case the other man should wake. In the quiet Jimmy could hear the sound of his heartbeat pounding in intervals between Thomas' breaths, escaping through his slightly parted lips, which looked dry but still so inviting. _Is this what he was thinking a year ago when he came to me? Did he want to speak to me, like I want to speak to him, but he just couldn't wake me? If he felt what I feel now then there is no need for words because this feeling is enough. I know he loves me. I joked about it but I know it. Can I feel the same? Can I, when I want to kiss those lips? Please wake up. I can't wake you. I can't. I can't go back to what was, but I don't know if I can go forward. Is this how you felt? My poor Thomas. I am so sorry. _He leaned forward, his breath was warm on Thomas' skin, he could feel the warmth as it lingered between his lips and Thomas', he glanced at Thomas' eyes to ensure he still slept as he tilted his head, and whispered as he leaned ever closer, "I understand now," suddenly his eyes were drawn by movement as Thomas' opened and widened, and before he could say a word Jimmy felt a fist slam into his face.

"Jimmy?! Oh god, I'm so sorry, are you all right?" Thomas sprang up straight away as the footman fell off the bed, though the pain of his wounds made the under butler fall back down onto the bed, though his eyes did not leave the footman.

"Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Jimmy stood up clutching his jaw which he was moving around, as if it had dislocated from the blow though there was such little strength behind it.

"Are you sure? I'm sorry, you startled me." Thomas gestured for Jimmy to sit on the chair, but the footman pretended to ignore him and sat on the bed once more.

"Not suprised after what happened to you. I'm sorry. Anyway I'm more worried about you." Jimmy told him in reassurance.

"Well, what are you doing up here?" A smile crept across Thomas' lips that the footman had come to see him and was sitting on the bed, _his_ bed, next to him, his body just inches away.

"I just wanted to make sure there wasn't too much harm done." Jimmy rubbed his thighs as he remembered why he was there, that the under butler had been attacked in his stead, as guilt overwhelmed him, though he was pleased Thomas did not ask what he was doing to warrant him being punched in the face.

"Well, there was enough harm done."

"You were brave, Mr Barrow. Very brave. I feel badly. I shouldn't have run off." Jimmy hung his head in disgrace.

"No you should have." Thomas thought of the battering he had received, something the footman would not have wanted to be on the end of, "Otherwise what was I bloody doing it for?"

"But you see… it were my fault this happened." Jimmy confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"I provoked those men. I rubbed their noses in the fact I took their money from them."

"Why would you do that?" Thomas' face or tone not one of anger or reprimand.

"Alfred, he… the past week or so he and I, we've been playing dares, and he dared me to do it." _It sounds so stupid now. I'm an idiot._

"So that's why you've both been acting so funny."

"Yes." _I hate myself._

"Well I knew that!" Thomas announced.

"You knew? And you didn't say anything!" Jimmy said in anger, being the first one to exhibit this emotion, perhaps unfairly.

"It were too much fun playing along." Thomas revealed, "Especially making Alfred uncomfortable, would you miss an opportunity like that? Wish he didn't kiss me or punch me in the face though." Thomas grimaced at the recollection of the incidents, "Not sure I want to know why he did that. I assume the dare wasn't to do that explicitly."

"No. He had to hide from Mr Carson, and the punches were an accident in proving his manhood."

"I see, well I couldn't exactly tell you off when I let it get so far."

"When did you know?"

"I knew something were up on day one. But it were confirmed when Alfred started flirting with me."

"That _was_ brilliant. I told Alfred afterwards how smooth I thought you were. Couldn't have done any better meself." Jimmy mused, feeling such comfort in speaking informally in this way with the under butler like he just knew he could trust him and that no matter what happened they could never truly be angry with each other, "Anyway I'm sorry our foolish game did this to you, it's our fault that this happened; that you were hurt. I'm so sorry, Alfred is too, but we've stopped playing now and all will be as it was."

"Your game didn't do this to me. It were those men, and it were my fault for being there." It was Thomas' turn to hang his head.

_How is any of this his fault? _"What do you-?"_Oh god._ "Were you following me?"

Thomas looked down at his hands as he spoke, in embarrassment at his protectiveness over the youth whom he believed hated him, "Had to keep an eye out, you were rather drunk so... Yes. I did follow you."

"Why?"

"You know why." Thomas said in exasperation, begging not to have to speak a truthful answer for it would only add to his pains already endured, but he so wanted to convey some part of his feelings; "I know it were all a dare, false, but I liked being close to you these past days. It's not often someone says those things to me or includes me in their games, strange as it was, whether they mean it or not, and it were nice. It were even worth getting kissed and punched in the face by Alfred. I know I shouldn't say these things, but I just wanted to say it, but that's it now."

_False? Damn. Knowing these were dares made him believe everything was false! If I knew he thought this, I don't know what I would have done I suppose, but I can't let him think that now. _"If we're being honest Mr Barrow, it may have been a dare, but I found it easier to say and do those things than I thought it would. I don't know, maybe part of me meant it."

"Oh. Well we won't dwell on it." Thomas swallowed. _I can't hope. Don't hope. Just move on from it. It's not real._ "So, whose turn is it now?"

"What?" Jimmy shot Thomas a confused look.

"Well, seeing as I got beat up I think I should get to dare Alfred."

"You're encouraging this?" Jimmy did not realise he was actually grinning at the under butler, at how tolerant he was. _He's so perfect. _

"Not at all, but if I'm going to be laid up in bed I'd like to enjoy meself," Thomas smirked, "And get me own back on Alfred. Though having Mr Branson play along helped."

"Mr Branson knew?"

"Of course, it's what we were talking about at the fair. Mr Branson and I have a knack at seeing the obvious whether we want to or not."

_Well played gentlemen, well played_. _Then again Alfred isn't much of a partner in crime, he bloody panics too much_. "I wouldn't like to play dares against you, I think you'd win."

"Would I?"

"Yeah, you're blatantly smart, and so calm, assured, and I reckon you would do anything, and get away with it and all. Even if you were found naked in his Lordship's bed." Jimmy raised a single eyebrow as he pictured that very scene. _Mr Barrow you are a great.. big.. yummy.. beast_.

"I don't know about that. Wouldn't mind daring Alfred to do that though. Though His Lordship might have a heart attack." Thomas not being wholly impressed by the sight of the lad in his pants, and having no desire to see what was beneath them, let alone his Lordship.

"Alfred's right about one thing, his knees aren't like yours." Referring to Alfred's compliments to the Under Barrow's evil yet seductive knees, especially when in the rain.

Thomas laughed at the memory of that poem, as bizarre as it was. "Who gets to dare me then?"

"I guess I do."

"Go on, unless you need time to think of something I won't do, as apparently I'll do anything." Thomas folded his hands behind his head. His shirt lifting up slightly to reveal the skin of his stomach, but Jimmy's eyes were drawn to the trail of dark hair beneath Thomas' navel, which made the blonde bite his lip. "Jimmy?" The under butler called him from his distraction, the source of which he could not fathom.

"I think I have it_._"_ Just please don't hate me for it._

"Go on then."

"I don't think you'll do it."

"Oo, how intriguing. Come on then." Thomas said in delight.

"Kiss me." Blank. _He's just staring at me. Did I say it? Do I need to say it again?_

"What?" Thomas blinked. _He couldn't have said that._

"Kiss me." Jimmy repeated.

"Are you that desperate to win? Or has your attractiveness has gone to your head again? Or is it the constipation?" Thomas laughed his way through the list of reasons as to why this was happening to him, because it couldn't be.

"No. You didn't set any limits. I'm just daring you Mr Barrow. If you don't want to kiss me then I'll dare you to actually wear a wig." Jimmy hoped that his light heartedness made his request seem more real, but the under butler just shook his head.

"Jimmy… I can't."

"It seems I underestimated you."

"You know I can't." _Can't believe I'm saying this._

"No I don't, and I know that it's not because you don't want to either. You're willing to do anything except the one thing you want to, even when it's being handed to you on a platter."

"You're very philosophical."

"Only today." Jimmy leaned forward, his hand now on Thomas', their eyes locked, "Kiss me."

"Is this a trick?" Thomas shied away.

"What do you mean?"

"Has Alfred dared you to do this?"

"No." _How could he think such a thing? Actually I suppose he could._

"He didn't dare you to come up here?"

_Bugger._ "Well… yes. I talk to you, he talks to Ivy."

"You needed a dare to bring you up here?" _I knew it were too good to be true._

"You need a dare to kiss me apparently." Jimmy countered.

"That's different and you know it. You really needed a dare to come and see me?"

"No. Mr Ba- Thomas… I wanted Alfred to talk to Ivy. This were just my part in exchange. Please believe me, wild horses couldn't keep me from coming here. From you." Jimmy grasped Thomas' hand tightly in his own, so the older man couldn't take it from him as the younger held that beseeching look into the other's eyes, in plea to be believed.

"How do I know that?"

"Because at the fair I had a thought. I know I had been drinking but it felt real when I thought it, and strangely natural."

"What was it?"

_Say it. For once say something real._ "That I loved you… and just now, you punched me in the face because I were too close, and I were too close because I tried to kiss you. I wanted to kiss you. Like I want to kiss you now."

"Don't do that. Don't. I'd rather endure everything from the past week again a thousand times over than hear you say that and take it back." Thomas' eyes welled with tears though he tried to hide it with a bow of his head and the stray hairs falling over his eyes acted as a shield.

"No. No I'm not going to take it back. I don't want to either. I just want you to trust me Thomas." He raised his hand to Thomas' chin and lifted the under butler's face so their eyes met again, but his hand still remained upon that scarred face, Jimmy fingers careful not to touch them but stroked the unblemished part of his cheek with his thumb comfortingly, "Do you trust me?"

Thomas closed his eyes to feel the youth's hand more clearly, as it soothed him, resisting kissing that palm which strayed so close to his lips. _By god, I love you. I love you._ _You will never know how much._ "Yes."

"Then kiss me Mr Barrow… I dare you."

**The End!**

* * *

**Hope that you all enjoyed my little recipe for disaster. I told you there would be a point to it at the end, which I hope was a satisfactory climax to this piece, albeit predictable :D Sorry for Jimmy getting punched in the face, but I'm afraid I have a real life habit of ruining romantic moments in favour of a bit of humour. Thank you all so much for reading. Your wonderful response gave me the drive to write this after persistent thoughts of giving up. You inspired me to go on, and it turned out being twice the length originally planned (much to my mental aggravation at coming up with new ideas)! So thank you, for everything. I only wish I could have done it again and again and again. I just hope I didn't disappoint too much that I couldn't. :D**

**Also I might be writing a side shot/deleted scene of this story to take place between chapters 10 and 11 which will heavily involve Tom. The one shot will basically answer the question of 'what exactly goes on in a leg appreciation society meeting?' With Tom and Thomas causing some trouble to make Alfred feel awkward. It will be more bonkers than anything I've written in this story, but I think we could so with a bit more of that in the Downton fandom :P As I said I 'might' write this, opinions on whether I should or not would be most welcome, because I'm not sure that I haven't traversed across the outer limits of madness as a result of writing this story :P**

**Thank you again, you are all wonderful, especially for making me feel more sane in such an insane enterprise :D **


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